


Keep Yourself

by blenselche



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dialogue Heavy, Episode: s08e07 – Islands Part 1: The Invitation, Fern should have gone to the island tbh, Fern's kindof a monster?, Hurt/Comfort, Islands Arc, M/M, Mertens Boys Club, Monster sex, Post-Canon Fix-It, Selfcest, art fic, gonna gradually turn paragraphs into comics once it's finished, is it really selfcest if they're becoming different people?, proper canon slang, so there's some art, tall fern, teenagers don't do slowburn, this was originally a comic/doujin script
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:40:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 42,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23667754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blenselche/pseuds/blenselche
Summary: "She was my mom, too."“I know man! We’re like family, so why are we fighting?”He should've said something.
Relationships: Fern the Human/Finn the Human
Comments: 33
Kudos: 112





	1. REJIG//Islands

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a fanfic since 2007 lmao 
> 
> NSFWish art at the bottom - if you want the NSFW pic w/o Finn: imgur.com/hrp1QD9
> 
> A bit ooc for dialogue purposes, but then again Finn did give that deep existencial speech in The Comet, so who knows.
> 
> find me on insta at blenselche (new for fan art)
> 
> this is just self indulgent canon divergence 
> 
> recommended for impatient people
> 
> I'm not following the traditional timeline.  
> The Finn Sword was made 2 years ago in this.  
> Finn was 14 and 17 for far too long.  
> He's turning 18 in chapter 4.

A blonde lump of hair decorates the treetop. Finn crouches and pets it, “I need to talk to you.”

Nothing.

“We found a ship. It had orders from humans.” He sits. “We have coordinates.” He remains still as flowers sprout up, forcing Finn’s hand away. “I want you to come.” Fern leans up and stares. “Please?” 

“Why?” 

Finn looks evenly at him and settles, pulling his knees up. “Its your right to.” 

“... I — uh — shouldn’t I stay here? in case? You can tell me about it when you get back.” Fern sits up slowly.

“Rattleballs is here.” Finn stills and watches the horizon. “I also have a feeling this’ll be super important.” 

It’s silent for a long time. “D’you still think I’m...?” 

Immediately a ‘no’ comes as Finn whips around. “I did for like, 4 hours after you came to us, Fern. I don’t. Is that the condition for you coming?” 

“My condition for coming is acknowledging that you’re me, except socially accepted. If we meet anyone you’ll be the one they spaz over. They’ll other me.” He wrings his hands and his eyes harden.

That’s a lot to drop but Finn pushes forward with a simple, “Okay. How do you think I see you?” Fern doesn't turn to look at him.

“You but bad. The curse." he glaces at Finn's prosthetic, "You with both arms?” he tries to joke.

“Well, I don’t,” he pauses, “I know what might go down will scuzz up my junk and I need you there. Jake is our brother but he won’t get any of it.” 

“I’ll need you for the same reason then.”

He nods and crosses over himself to place his warm hand to his Other’s shoulder, “I’m up for Fern to Finn talk all the time, but you’re so standoffish’n I don’t wanna shake the shack, man.” He looks up at the sky and tongues his tooth-gap, “I ask myself what I’d want someone to do or say to me if I was traumatized or something and I try to follow that.” 

“Oh.” 

“I also wanna spend time with you.” Simple.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Fern side eyes him, “We leave in the morning. Are you staying here tonight?” Finn shoves his hat down, shaking his hair out.

“If it’s not a problem.” 

“H- what? I was asking because I want you on my team for game night. Are you clownin’ on me? It’s _your_ house.” He tries to form eye contact, but Fern avoids it. “Dude. You’ve lived here your whole life. Fern — look at me.” His face shines a slight yellow in the sunset, gaze darting back and forth from his hands to just under Finn’s mouth. The answer is silent but loud with insecurity. “Oh,” he frowns, “man, jeez. That’s bunk. Okay.” His arm snakes around Fern’s shoulders, “I think of it as ours. I think of all that stuff as ours. You don’t need to ask to use any of it, ever. You need to talk, eventually, about this biz. I won’t push but,” he squeezes his shoulder, “please.” 

“I know,” Fern stills and knocks their shoulders together, “you, too.” 

They packed in relative silence. The walk to the boat was filled with uncertainty and Jake prattling on without input. The significance of this trip was hard to ignore in favor of distractions. 

As the beach comes into sight Fern grabs Finn’s upper arm, stopping suddenly, “What do I say?” He frets. 

“What?” 

“To the girls. To Susan. I hurt her. I know them buttheydontknowme. Do they even know how well I know them? That’s so dang awkward. They’re your friends to them and I’m — I’m like –“ his speech was disjointed and quick. He waves a concerned Jake off and rubs Fern’s shoulders 3 times in reassurance. This conversation has been avoided pretty successfully over the past few months, Finn knows they have to hash it out on this trip. It can't be at home. 

“Do you want me to talk to them?” His hands stay, grounding and firm. 

“I just don’t want that to be a thing! I – I don’t want you to have to explain me, like, like your bananas family member or, or some experiment? Or –“ if he needed air he would probably be hyperventilating, Finn thought. 

“Stop. You’re gonna flip your brains straight up bonkers. It’s been three months. Just apologize to Susan. She was sorry, I should’ve talked to you, _I'm_ sorry." he tries to look it, too. "Marcie might rib you. You don’t have to gab if you don’t wanna.” His hands slide down Fern’s arms and drop back to his sides. 

Bubblegum gives Finn a lecture, the familiarity is comforting. Fern interrupts to introduce himself but she says nothing, just smiles at him fondly. Marceline makes a comment about the bike. You could cut the air. Before they leave the princess pulls him aside, "Finn, just remember that he's you before you had all your mature revelations, okay? Try to be understanding. And again, please come back safe." He promises and they push off.

On the boat Finn lets his hair down, “They don’t know what to make of it, I think. But you didn’t do anything wrong.” He pauses and looks at his Other, “You’re not wrong.” Fern just mimics him and removes his hat, “Would you rather they talk to us like one person? Ball’s in your court, bud.” 

“I don’t know what would help.” He opens his mouth as if catching rain, letting his tongue poke the air. “Sea salt. I should move, my body might brown if it gets its soak on.” Finn can’t imagine him any other color - green being almost lost to him due to his deuteranomaly. 

“Can you see green?” 

Fern furrows his brows for a moment, then slaps the cleat of the boat, “Oh! Oh, yeah. I can. You can’t see what I look like that well, right? If I was dying you wouldn’t really notice. Heh. Weird.” Finn is just puzzled at the difference, and how often his Other mentions the morbid. They move to the cabin door, guarded from sea spray. 

“That’s... an interesting difference. Any ideas?” He just shrugs but his body language says otherwise. “We should go inside. The ride’s gonna be a while and the tide is high.” The door opens to reveal nothing special. The boat feels jacked: fishing supplies and photos of strangers are abundant. A small couch sits at the far wall. “You think that pulls out?” Its purple maybe? too dirty to tell the original color, it’s ripped and scuffed. Finn pushes a cushion aside to see a bar. “Yus.” 

“You wanna stare at maps we can’t understand?” Fern pats the table. 

“Sure but I’m betting Jake has that dumps game with him if you wanna play.” The map PB gave him rolls out on the table and reveals absolutely nothing that he can use. “He might be able to grok this. His old job or whatever.” Fern sits and scribbles a bee flying from Ooo to a nearby island. 

“I’m just hopin’ we don’t get lost and fall in the world crater.” The taller one offers, smiling half heartedly. “This is so ridiculous. When do you think Susan was sent here? She’s been around since we were baby boys. Whoever gave her the job had terrible follow up.” Finn takes the chair across the table and drags it so they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder. Fern turns to look at him, bumping their knees together. 

“She’s so fired.” Starting to feel sea sick, he dips his head down a bit and relaxes his expression. “I’m gonna hack so much if she doesn’t stop wiggling us.” Fern rubs his back. “Guess you gots no guts to make sick huh?” 

“Nah, I’ve got stuff to mix up inside my grass bag, I’m just rooting myself, it helps.” They look down to his feet, planted and latched to the floorboards. His hand was having steady, wonderful effects – now turning into large ovals, doing laps over his nape and lower back. Finn draws Fern with a tree trunk for legs, connecting the roots up to Ooo. He ducks down. 

“Thanks, urgh... I gotta put my head down.” The table is cool to his forehead, Fern pries the hat from around his neck and settles his hair next to his face. The pressure from his scalp always made him a bit more sick. He didn’t know why he was surprised that his Other knew, but he appreciated it. “I’m a mood smasher. Wanna play hangman?” 

“We both know you’re not gonna read without chucking.” Fern pinches the back of his neck, fighting off the tension there. 

“Mertens Club meetings are worth hurlin.” He puts pen to paper and lays four lines down. “Easy one for you, worry baby.” 

“I don’t have to be a worry baby, I could —“ he lifts his hand and is immediately shot a wobbly look. “Thought so.” He mouths some syllables to himself and guesses an ‘E’ to success. “My name?” Finn just grins and shrugs. “Baby mode off.” He plants down blanks and they continue like that for a long while. His hand stills eventually in Finn’s hair. Fern knew how to lift and pull it over to the other side of his part, rubbing at the roots – painful, but satisfying, like sucking a loose tooth. It was a small amazement. 

“You were sent to me as some kinda blessing, Doctor Mertens. Gob.” 

“I just copied what you do.” The hand is gone, settled somewhere other than on Finn.

“Don’t be like that man. You can do things different from me, but you know what makes us feel better and you let me just lay here instead of jostlin’ myself and getting more sick. Are you feelin’ alright?” He sits up and arches deeply to stretch and yawn. 

“I – uhyea. Wish my head felt like part of my body though.” He rubs his neck and keeps his eyes glued to his feet. 

Finn replaces the hands with his own, pulling muscle downward with his thumbs. “Does this still feel good?” Fern hums in response and looks nervously out the window, “Well that’s great. We can help each other without all the ‘communication’ PB always bothers us about.” 

“Those talks do not have a happy place in my head.” He drawls. 

“What, I’m not a good conversationalist?” Finn says, sarcastically. He catches his Other’s eyes.

“No, I just don’t know how much is me and how much is you. I want to have my own thoughts but I also just want my life back.” Finn’s hands lighten up and become all fingertips and nails. “Would you wanna be me? I fell asleep after doing a silly dance and got tricked by a friend into being an inanimate object.” He rubs circles into Fern’s temples and stays quiet. “I never minded you using me, I got to watch and help you. But, now that I’m out it’s all weird and — I said too much, sorry.” 

“No, this is why I wanted you to come.” Finn shakes his head and bore back down onto Fern’s nape, he’s bowed his head low. “One, this has to do with you and Two, I want to know you. I think it’s alright to be us, but you can make new experiences and become a new you with different reactions, and that’s exciting. Memories for yourself.” He rubs circles behind his ears, “I don’t think it’s fair that you gotta change your name or be treated different just cuz of your bod’s remodeling.” Looking for a reaction, he pulls his face up, but his eyes are closed. “I wanna help. But you kinda scare me so I don’t bother you.”

“I — I scare you?” Fern blinks and rushes to grab his hands from his neck and fold them together. 

“Sometimes. Don’t worry about that. I’m more scared of what’s happening right now, self confrontation. Also the pedestal thing you do psyches me out.” 

“I just see things working out for you and it feels like I can’t get dirt right.” He rubs Finn’s wrists. 

“I get things wrong a lot. Maybe I’m just good in front of you because I want to prove something to myself... When you’re ready I want you to finish what you were saying.” He scoots to the edge of his chair, “C’mon. Let’s go up and check stuff.” Hands don’t move. “Fern?” 

“I feel like my outlook on life is changing fundamentally, give me a second.” He turns their hands palm up and puts them to his face. Finn just grows heavy lidded and inchworms his fingers across mossy skin. “It’s like I’m having a repeating existential crisis,” he tilts his head toward exploring hands, “my ego state is janked up. I’m wondering if I still have our fingerprints.” He inspects the pads of their fingers. Finn thinks he’s going to break in two. Something uncomfortable and heavy had been settling into his stomach all day, but just now the string is cut, emotionally toppling him over. 

A minute passes, he seems to have calmed. “Wanna head up?” He nods and stands. “I need my hands, Fern.” is whispered. He blooms a bit in his hair and detaches himself, not sparing a look as he hurries to the dock. Finn follows. 

“FINN BABIES!” Jake is unperturbed by the tension between them.

They sleep on the same side of the bed – closest to the door, but Finn relents, wondering if his Other has the same reasons. Jake and Susan kept to the dock, something about night air and a lookout. He was still weighed down from the unnamed feeling of the day. Of the past few months, really. It’d started with the sight of a downtrodden Fern run off on Starchy’s bike with failure to actualize expectations of himself. Maybe it started when he saw the audaciously jarring scene of him slumped over, face down in syrup – realizing their sameness and empathizing with him for the first time. The dread he brings is chronic. But He’s him, there’s something that makes Finn incredibly drunk about his rare approval and smile. _I just want to hear him laugh._ There were metaphorical pounds of stress on him, but they could be forgotten in the moment. He undoes the fold-out and rolls the two furs they’d packed onto the bare mattress. The other boy is sitting on the floor working, shirtless, careful and silent. 

He squats behind Fern, watching him groom himself, shears moving quickly. It seems like such a violent hygiene practice, but he’s methodical. “How much do you do this?”

Fern doesn’t look at him, he keeps preening his right arm and making Finn nervous. “Once a month. But I wanted to do it tonight because of the salt in the air.” 

“Can I help?” 

“If you don’t maim or disfigure me. I can’t get my back that well so this is a favor, actually.” He gets up, dusts himself off and sits on the mattress, “C’mon this takes a while, you don’t wanna be on the floor.” 

The shears are daunting, “So just discolored areas?” Fern nods. He settles down behind him, having to lean to get full access, he didn’t want to get in his bubble after this morning. He seemed to have a similar reaction of distress when in each other’s personal space. Might be echos of the paradox. He rakes a gaze down his back. “There’s not a lot, do I get stuff that sticks out, too?” He nods. Finn sets to clipping bits off his shoulder blades, small shakes infecting his hands. “I’m still confused about your needs, so you’ve gotta be frank with me, man.” Fern turns to look him in the mouth or forehead - wherever the gaze is, it’s not on his eyes. “I’ll do what I can, okay? We have water n I brought plant food — uh, that uh – might sound dumb but I have zero clue about this...” he skates his palms over the middle of his back, feeling the change in texture. His skin felt like an air plant, or maybe sage, with scattered bushels of grass tufts. His shorts felt like garden hedges. 

“I’m surprised you’d do that for me, but I have enough junk to run on for a while.” He leans forward onto his stomach and pushes his legs out under where Finn is hovering, letting him get to the backs of his thighs. A sick wave covers Finn’s body, uneasy and coming back to live low in his stomach when he realizes how close they’ve gotten. He'd sworn to himself he'd push those feelings away a long time ago. 

The attraction, affection, whatever it was that he has for his Other came in slow moments of reflection after his periodic visits. At first he just wanted Fern there, wanted to know him. He was excited at the prospect of another him, someone to have everything (even a birthmark) in common with. He was unavailable a lot, though, speaking only when necessary, taking up so little of the space Finn thought was his right to. He would start his day on top of the tree-house, looking for any signs of life. The first hint came then. It fully sunk in when he'd accidentally stumbled upon his Other tending to a garden meant for LSP. He hid and watched his taller-self, realizing they had drastically different work styles. Fern was systematic, he himself was chaotic at best. Affection overran him and now Finn _needed_ to know him. He'd watched Fern row and seed the donated nursery for two hours, enraptured. The way he spoke to their friend was docile and kind, "Of course, I want you to have food out here, since you won't stay with me." Finn wondered where that was but decided following him any further would be heavily intrusive. He did, though, make an excuse to bump into him, to touch. That'd set whatever-it-was off kilter and filled his mind wholly.

  


He snips small leaves, snags beginnings of vines and clips bits of brush out of order while trying to keep his eyes from falling out of his head. “You don’t have to be so gentle.” Maybe Fern could tell he was struggling to keep his hands light. He laid in, tidying the back of his legs more assuredly, gripping instead of ghosting with his metal palm. “Thanks...” his face disappears into his arms, relaxing. Finn couldn’t really pay attention. This was the closest he’d been to anyone in a very long time. Straddling. Reveling his position shook him and the fog in his brain thickens. _This is selfish._ He drops the shears beside the bed and they make a loud clunking sound. He starts to shift away when Fern turns over under him. “Done?” He doesn’t say anything, he can only handle breathing through this wave of resurfaced attraction. He can’t lose it, they’re in the middle of an ocean. “I—“ Grassy hands land on his knees.

“Do you need anything else?” He deliberately keeps his voice even and hides his tremors. “I have to brush my teeth.” He starts to extricate himself. Fern lifts a knee to block him from going. His brain is jelly. “H—“

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Finn freezes, half off and half on Fern. “My body, I mean.” 

“No." He wants to say the opposite. “No, you don’t.” 

“What’s the matter then?” 

“Nothing you did.” He settles back down. His brain is so busy but so dead all at the same time. He was ineffectual. “Touching, it’s just, I —“

“Because I’m you?” 

“Because you’re so – not – me.” His hands were lowering without notice, to rest on Fern’s thighs. 

“Is that bad?”

Finn just breathes shakily and makes his voice small, “No. I — “ he notices he’s been massaging circles into his thighs, “m just,” he sits deeper and spreads his hands to grab a wide section of leg, “not thinking right.” Fern leans up on his elbows, hair blooming impossibly, lips parted and eyes glassy. “I’m so,” he lays his head on Fern’s shoulder, “stupid.” _There are a lot of differences. Does that make it excusable? Probably not._

Fern lowers back down and they end up in an awkward straddling embrace. The scene was knocking around in Finn’s head but he ignores it. Stricken. “Maybe.” He turns to the left and slowly lets go. Finn lets himself be deposited on the mattress. “But that’s okay.” 

“I’m not so sure,” He clutches his stomach, “the stress is awful.” He jokes.

“Want to hear how I wrecked Starchy’s bike? Take your mind off your dumb dome diagnosis?” His eyes were warm, but not a smile. 

“Yeah, thanks.”

Finn forced the night to turn into an intractable dream. He’d bury this deep, later.

Fern laid watching, violently blooming while unobserved. 

Fern woke with a start, someone was next to him – someone was yelling. He remembered where he was and relaxed, laying back into the mattress as another yell rang out beside him. Finn was wailing intermittently in his sleep. He sighed to himself and considered smothering him. 

_Smothering? Really?_ The suggestions were getting more and more out-there. And violent. 

He turns to shake Finn’s shoulder gently. “Hey.” There’s dead quiet and suddenly he shoots up, screaming. He flips over and has Fern in a death grip instantly, hands at his neck, green arms under his knees. “I was thinking about smothering you, now I regret not doing it.” He deadpans. 

“Fah — Fern?” He pants out, strained and brings a palm to his head. “I’m sorry.” He pats the Other’s shoulder and becomes boneless. “I’m so sorry.” 

His hands feel like cement as he cups the back of Finn’s head and brings him to double over into the crook of his neck. “It’s alright.” Fern cradles him loosely, “Wanna talk about it?” 

“I keep seeing Golb.” 

“You remember seeing him?”

“No. Did we?” 

“It was only for a second. We were gonna die in another world. I’m still not sure if it was a dream or not. Might’ve been prophetic.” Finn turns his face inward. “We were upset about Phoebe and hiding in a bunch of pillows.” He tries at comedy, to raise the tension a little.

“Are you still upset about her?” His breath tickles.

“No. I’d take back dating her if I had the chance, she’s too cool for our ass.” He cursed rarely but it was an expletive necessary sentiment. “Are you? Cuz I gotta say, boy, if you’re still not over it that’s unhealthy as heeeck.” He whispers the last word into a squeak. 

“No, I just needed a distraction from my dream.” He rolls to the left and the leaving heat was missed immediately. Fern had a naturally low temperature now, and he longed for the cozy feeling of warmth. “I’m regretful but I think I learned a lot from it. Dunno.” He thumbs at the scar tissue where her hair was once unconsciously scorching, eating, burning.

“What, that you shouldn’t have your wet dreams acted out?” Fern quirks an eyebrow and smirks at him, earning a good 4, maybe 5ish punch to the shoulder. He steps out of the bed and flattens his ruffage. 

“No, you dillweed. Standards I guess. I wanna be able to hug someone at least.” Finn looks out the window. "We should probably get up, it's almost morning." The green boy elongates his arms to burrito Finn in the mattress and holds tight.

“Like this?” he carries him over a shoulder to open the cabin door. Fern had noticed his double wasn't very high spirited lately, _I need to cheer him up._

“Slaps you’re strong.” the Finnrito yelps and giggles.

“I’m not strong, I’m DEMON MAGIC!” He announces and pulls away, dropping the roll to the deck. He swings Finn up into a bridal hold and walks them over to the closest edge of the boat. “You want a bath?” He protests and tries to grab at Fern. He swoops Finn back in close before Jake breaks them up and gives them a geolocational rundown. 

He did not like the dragon. He voiced that he did not like the dragon early on, when he called them cool. Finn shushed him so he made a scene of disappointment. “I’ll be havin a snack. If you decide that ‘squirrel girl’ is a word you never want to hear again come get me.” Fern whispered, and dragged a hand across his back as he walked up to the bow to watch the vanishing point. That wasn’t a very good idea. Finn jointed him after an hour of staring at the sky and trying to keep his face calm. 

“What a wad.” He sits and stretches to touch his toes. Fern’s eyes are glued to the sliver of skin that’s revealed. He coughs. “How’d you call that he’d be annoying?” 

“His mannerisms. He was trying too hard.” 

“Well you were right.” He lays back but keeps his eyes on the flowers in his Other’s hair. “Can’t read a room...” 

“Told you,” Fern leans over him, “I have wad radar.” Finn smiles and holds his eyes. There’s a small moment of togetherness that’s interrupted by shouting. Finn rolls over and grabs onto him. 

BMO, broken out of his stow away closet, was yelling at the creature about his ineptitude to sense tension. The dragon had heard them talking about him. The boat is torn into smithereens and Fern is in danger of falling apart. He panics as they’re suspended in water that’d gravely injure him. Finn fails to keep hold on him, ripping out a chunk of brush from his side when he floats higher. Jake turns himself into a temp ship and they fall. Fern catches Susan, BMO and Finn, swaddling them in morphed arms. 

Jake doesn’t want to be the boat but they pressure him. 

They follow BMO’s plotting and Fern lays down to have a crisis. 

Jake starts to hassle Finn about why he **really** wants to go to the island and Fern feels like he’s going to snap, “Because he’s wanted to know about what he is forever!” He calls from the floor, face down. “And he’ll remember that you’re the one who made him turn back, bro.”

They quiet for a minute. Finn confirms in his own words and the dragon makes itself known with sympathy. He gives them a push and they’re within reach of the island in a flash. 

A figure rises, creating maelstrom. “Jake!” Fern yells, he lowers his right arm into the sea and morphs it long and wide before spinning it like a propeller. “You need a backup plan! I’m not gonna last long like this!” Susan hops in the water and kicks, they jet off. The colossus they were warned of was actively trying to capsize them. Jake surrounds their bodies and creates an air tunnel. 

Susan gets cut off. 

Fern loses consciousness. 

Fern regains his faculties slowly, blinking his eyes only a millimeter or two open and straining to see. He was alone, sprawled out in sand during mid day on an unknown island. The tide is low but it could change in an instant. Fear grabs him but he’s paralyzed as if in a night terror. He tries to speak but nothing comes. Instead he forces a vine upward as a signal and waits, playing out possible scenarios in his mind. _I’m dead if I’m alone._ Then he realizes, his arm is gone. Fully. Up to his shoulder. He stared, dismayed. _Why? Every time. Every version of myself, no exceptions._ At least this method was clean. He reaches roots out to find soil and plants himself deep. It doesn’t help. His arm might be well and truly gone. The part of him Finn stole away had healed back but that was inconsequential. 

“You’re awake, oh my g—“ he hears rustling, “your arm is gone, I almost disemboweled you, you don’t breathe and you don’t have a heartbeat. Do you know what it’s like, not knowing if someone’s dead!” He’d never spoken so quickly. “You scared the life outta me.” Finn hurries to kneel at his side and doesn’t know where to put his hands, they just hang in the air over him. “How are you feeling?” He looks shattered. 

Fern finds his voice finally, “I can’t really tell.” His head lulls to the side and his double lifts it to settle on his thighs. “Who’s the worry baby now?” 

The smile is fake, Finn pushes the green-with-dread hair out of his face. “Susan is missing. Jake and BMO are talking to someone who lives on the island but I couldn’t leave you. D’you need anything?” His palm is rested on his forehead, as if it would tell him a temperature. Fern turns his face toward his double’s stomach and draws his legs up to curl around him. 

“I wanna feel like I’m here. My body is way floaty.” 

“I don’t know how to help with that, sorry.” He stares at where his arm used to meet his shoulder and frowns. “Should'a seen me when I noticed the arm-curse-thing got you. I lost my marbles.” He tucks Fern’s hair behind his ear. “If you want to borrow my robo super arm I can refit it real easy.” 

“Then I’ll be extra scary. I don’t think it’ll grow back.” He tilts his face between Finn’s thighs to stifle a laugh at the absurdity. “What is my life?” It’s muffled and airy. And sad. “I hope this is worth it.” 

Finn makes a noise like he’s seen something he shouldn’t have. “Fern, gob, man, just—“ he scoops his neck and tucks his head under his chin. His left hand moves to hold the back of his right knee as he pulls him in. It’s the most intimate thing he can remember in his combined experiences. The metal hand clutches in his hair. Finn breathes, loud and slowly into his shoulder. “It will be.” They probably look ridiculous but are frozen there for a long time before the hand in his hair moves. “I’ll make it up to you.” 

“I just meant when my croak day comes, but this’s also not very... It’s not your fault,” he says in a small voice. “I made a decision. It donked me up but that’s me. Donkin things up.” He lifts his (only) arm and tugs on the back of Finn's shirt. “I should’ve been more insistent on avoiding that thing. I know you’re too polite to turn down anything that looks helpless.” 

“Probably.” Finn takes his hands back and Fern is afraid he’s overstepped but he speaks again with a warm voice, “Sit with your back to my chest.” Fern rearranges himself achingly. Arms come around to clasp over his calves to push his knees into himself, “Gonna squeeze ya.” He smiles into his hair. Finn hooks his ankles around green legs and hugs – It’s calming and like a full-body emotional reset button. He ends up lifting him off the ground. “You continue to terrify me constantly, Fern Mertens.” The breaths hitting humid at the back of his neck. 

“I’m just messed, man. If youda learned self sacrifice was iffy before I got put in a sword maybe I’d be smarter.” 

“Me doing anything before that day wouldn’t’a helped.” He puts him down and stretches his legs out. ”I’ll tell you that story later. We’re leaving as soon as Jake finishes talking to Alva. She’s human, doesn’t speak English and her bear almost ate you’n’me but I beat him up for your honor, so. Everything’s sorted. Relax a bit.” Fern leans back and rests his head under his chin. “You’re something else.” 

His hair flowers. 

“...Why does your hair do that?” Finn raises his flesh hand to touch one. “Can you feel this?” Fern looks forward and feels caught. 

“Emotions – and yeah, right now it feels like if I did this,” he brushes his fingers on the inside of Finn’s arm, “to you.”

“...huh.” He lowers his face to them and inhales, making Fern go wide eyed and jump a bit. “So the shears – did that hurt you?” 

“Yeah, yeah, not a lot though. If I get too shabby I’ll use up more energy than I need ‘n get dead spots,” He gestures to part of his leg that’s hollowed out, “and then nothing can grow there again. So it can’t be helped.” He turns his gaze back up, Finn is tight lipped and looking at the unyielding area of his left thigh. “Hey. Plant boy stuff, you don’t need to worry about it.” 

“No, I do. We’re like, closer than family, right?” He asks for reassurance, “I should know. I wanna know.” His hand brushes against the crater and his chin settles on the crown of Fern’s head, “Told you before,” his eyes close, “I want to.” 

“There’s a lot then.” He sits upright and twists around to look at him, “You’re not gonna like some of it.” Finn pulls him back.

“That’s fine. I’ve gotten a lot more zen if you hadn’t noticed. I’m super mature now, I can handle talks, serious style.” He’s only sort of joking. 

“I’ll tell you a thing, then, since you protected my **honor**.” He cranes his neck to rest against Finn’s shoulder and looks him in the eye. “Theres a part of me that was your arm, and it’s mega mixed up about Susan and the Lich, n stuff.” His gaze doesn’t waver. Finn’s eyes get wide as tenses up. 

“The grass sword was conscious?” 

“Is conscious. You didn’t know? You talked to it like it was.” 

“I thought what it did was, like, a manifestation of my true wants or something cheesy.” He blinks.

“Nope, very alive. Anyway,” He smirks, “you got more out of me than I promised, sneak. I probably should’ve told you that a while ago though.” 

“Thanks. For trusting me, I mean.” He notices that Finn’s hand is still grasped over his dead-spot and covers it with his own. 

“Obviously.” He mumbles. Fern glances between Finn’s green and blue eye, a finger beneath his hand begins circling into his leg, “D’you think I don’t?” His voice gets quieter per word. 

Finn can’t say anything, he feels like he might implode. There’s no dread or anxiousness, only a magnetic pull between his chest and his Other’s back, sealing them close. He clenches his metal hand and it makes an ugly scraping noise. “I didn’t.” He puts some pressure on his flesh hand and Fern sucks the inside of his cheek. “Are you feeling anything yet? Your arm.”

“No. I think it’s just dead. But that’s good because the nerves are inert, so I can’t feel anything.” He’s so quiet Finn can hardly hear him over the wind. Fingers lace into his as he turns, bringing them face-to-face. “You’re distracting me though, so...” 

_I’m screwed._ His hand joins the motion of his finger and rubs rings more aggressively into the skin there. Something warm is climbing his spine and he wants so badly to bring him even closer. “Glad I’m useful.” Fern chews his lower lip - looking straight through him, and Finn is gone, mind blank. _Now isn't the time._ He doesn't listen to himself and slowly, so slowly brings his metal hand to cup his Other's cheek. He only needs to move an inch to touch noses, Fern looks at his lips - back to his eyes - back to his lips, not even hiding it. He glances to the top of his head and it’s just about covered. _I’m so dead, hell._ Finn makes loops behind his ear with a metal finger and touches their foreheads together. He wusses out and presses his lips to the edge of Fern’s mouth - something that could be considered cheek territory and exhales hard. “I wi—“ 

He hears Jake calling for them not far off behind him. They share something in their look and he sighs. He picks himself up, but drags his hand along Fern’s thigh as he moves. Fern lets his hand be taken along in the air until they break contact, out of reach. 

They learn about a few more islands and shove off. Fern keeps his hat on and keeps his eyes off Finn. 

_This is beef._

They find Susan on an island that looks like Simon’s crown. She seems catatonic for most of the day, she murmurs to herself, “Find them, catch them,” periodically. 

Fern carries BMO to keep his hands busy so he doesn’t pick at his shrubbery. 

She, unaware, takes them on a tour of the facilities that have become decrepit and sad. Fern had never felt so out of place on the nonorganic floors. 

She finally stills on the beach, uncovering a hat not too different from Finn’s and her own. She comes to and reveals her given name to them at sunset. Kara. 

They’ll sleep in the run down rooms where her old dorm was. She mentions the docking area and affirms that she’ll be taking them to the main island tomorrow. And that Finn should try to sleep as much as he can. She looks at Fern with something like pity. 

Fern is stripped down, unpacking his spay bottle and nutrient mix when he’s interrupted by a knock on his door. He specifically chose to room alone for a reason. What had happened earlier that day was becoming too much for him to think on, his feelings were in a battle and he was just plain tired and a bit angry. _He almost kissed me. He sort of kissed me. He –_ The knocking at his door is small but not stopping, so he gives in and opens it. Finn stares, then reddens and glues his eyes to the floor. “I think we should talk.”

“About?” he just feels like being difficult.

“Please let me come in.” Finn grinds the toe of a shoe into the ground. “I don’t wanna do this out here.” His chest is filled with anxiety and he moves aside. His double strides across the room in only 4 steps and arranges himself, cross legged on the bed. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

What!? “Wha—“

“I don’t want to make this trip awful for you, I asked you to come and I was way out of line and took advantage of a stressful situation while you were in a state of shock. I was trying to comfort you and I way overstepped. I’m sorry.” He rushes the words out and white-knuckle grips the sheets. Fern’s eyes prickle. 

“O–okay. I, uh.” The room starts to shrink. He coughs and tries to regain his composure. “To me, you didn’t do any of those things. Maybe it felt like it but,” he walks up to the side of the bed like it’ll bite him, “I don’t think it was like that.” His voice is gentle and unsure. He reaches a hand out but leaves it in the air. “You haven’t manipulated a situation since FP. You’re not like that. I’m sorry I got the wrong idea.” He takes his hand back awkwardly. Finn’s face hasn’t changed.

“Fern.” He finally looks at him, looking almost disappointed, and he feels like he’s going to cry. “You're still reeling.” He breaks away from Finn’s eye contact quickly. 

“Well now I am. And now you’re being manipulative, by the way. Do you – you – agh!” he lets out a frustrated growl. He sits at the head of the bed and rubs his face. “You’re so dense." Fern brings his eyes back up to look at him, “Susan said you should rest. Why are you here?” He gestures. 

“To try to apo—“

“Don’t you dare, Finn Mertens. I’ll kick your ass and drag you back to Doctor Princess in my briefs,” he fumes, “and you said the **dragon** couldn’t read a room! Wow.” He’s getting aggressive and turns his attention back to his food. “If you’re going to do this forget it happened and get some sleep. You and I are both thinking about what might happen tomorrow and we don’t need t'be doing this right now.” He measures a quarter of a packet out into a cup of water to prepare his breakfast, and turns to face (the still there) Finn again. “What?” he snaps, exasperated.

Finn was staring at the top of his head. He crawls across the bed and grabs Fern’s shoulders. He yanks him down and clambers over his body, straddling him. “You’re killing me.” He pleads. He’s breathing open mouthed and staring enough to burn a hole through Fern. 

“What? Because I’m not upset about you kissing me?”

“Yes.” His answer is rushed and and immediate. Their noses are almost touching and Finn brings his left hand up to hold the back of his neck. “It’s killing me. I’m so messed up about it.” He lowers himself onto Fern to show him. 

Oh. His hair reddens and curls around Finn’s arm. Every blink they take is slower now. He uses the hold Fern’s hair has on his flesh arm to pull his face up and search it before leaning into him. “Please want this, because once we do anything there’s no going back t —” He sounds desperate, Fern interrupts him and hooks an ankle over his leg.

“Please." They hold a steady gaze. 

One ...

Two ...

Three seconds pass. Finn seems like like he’s about to fall apart. Fern licks his lips, keeping eye contact.

He makes a needy, animalistic noise and kisses him, finally, properly. The tension leaves Fern’s body and he reaches up to hold his jaw. It’s surreal. He’s chapped and calloused and wonderful. 

The dam breaks inside him and he claws with his arm across the other’s back, latching onto his shirt and twisting it in his hand. Finn pulls away and breathes deep and hot, eyebrows scrunched up. Fern slides his hand up to his hair and pulls him back down, turning to fit their lips together more perfectly, more open. He slides his tongue along his double’s lower lip and Finn groans. He responds hungrily, opening for him, and it’s incomprehensible. There’s no tentativeness or testing, Fern knows what he likes and abuses it. He elongates his tongue to wrap around Finn’s unnaturally and sucks. He’s rewarded with a moan so loud he almost jumps. The rest of his body comes alive and he brings his legs up to fold around hips, pressing them together. They break apart and he kisses his way down the nicely pinked neck above him. 

“F – Fern.” At the sound of his name he covers the skin and sucks. Finn buries a metal hand in the brush of his chest, roaming feverishly.

Fern comes back up to kiss him and licks from his jaw to his collarbone. He bites where his shoulder starts and writes his thoughts into the skin trapped between his teeth. “You have no idea what I can do to you, do you? You have no idea what you do to me.” His voice is thick and alludes to everything he’s thought about since these feelings started. “I’ve thought about this for so long.” The human is reduced to a mewling mess, but he still fights to shuck his shirt off and press their chests together. His heart rocks Fern violently. Finn runs his hands down his Other’s sides and grips him hard. Fern wraps vines around their hips and meshes them together to grind out frustration and want. He’s hard and so gratifying and jutting into his stomach. His double peels his kiss-rough reddened mouth away again to breathe and look at him admiringly. 

“I knew — you'd be so — so good.” Fern grabs his flesh hand and brings it to his face, he looks Finn in the eye and reaches his tongue out to wrap around a finger multiple times. He stretches it to cover his palm, then his wrist. Finn looks like he’s about to combust, “You,” he starts wringing and pumping, “Fern, if you don’t stop, just that’s going t— “ He understands and lets go, returning to his mouth and devours him. He rocks his hips, they find friction in one another and he’s a puddle. “Look at me.” He does and Finn tilts just the right way so they’re pressed against each other. His head falls back but he keeps their eyes locked. 

Fern’s arm reaches down and swipes over his abdomen, slipping fingertips under his waistband and asking nonverbal permission. He’s kissed again, and Finn bites and sucks on his lower lip in consent. His boxers are pulled down to his thighs by vines. The same happens to his double. “Wh—“

“Every time I try to touch myself all I can see are your hands,” His palm widens into a funnel and grips them both, pressing them together. “All I can hear is your voice.” He concentrates on pooling moisture from his body into his hand and coats them. Finn’s yell is dampened by the grass of his shoulder as he bites down. He can’t handle it and rests, forehead to forehead. 

“Fah–Fern holy shit,” he can’t help bucking his hips. Knowing they’re fitted against each other gives Finn a second wind of alertness and he crashes their mouths together. They arc against one another and he breathes into his hair. “You’re so perfect. You’re perfect.” He repeats. 

He feels close – mouth gaping and veins popping. Finn’s breath staggers and shallows. His movements stutter. Fern holds him up with vines and slips himself out of his hand to focus on the other. He adds ridges to every other finger and moves them the way he likes. He jerks and screws his hand 3 more times and feels pulsing. Finn was coming and devolving into a trembling mess, panting hard next to his face, buried in his flush-reddened hair. Because of him. Fern was reverent. He slows and massages him through his orgasm. 

“L– let me...”

He dissolves the vines holding most of his double’s weight and it brings them together, sticky and hot. Finn crawls down his body after kissing him on the skin he passes, slow and deep, eyes half open. He continues until he’s laying between legs, sliding hands from turfy knees to the creases of his thighs. His metal hand slings Fern’s leg over his shoulder and leans to palm the base of his erection. His hand is so much more intimate, and so warm. 

Fern’s eyes roll to the back of his head, he grinds his fist into the wall but something electric makes him snap back to attention. Finn’s lips were on him. Kissing down and licking back up. Fern struggles to keep his hips still, hand grasping blindly for one of Finn’s. He finds hair and clutches it, moaning erotic worshipful nonsense into the air. “Hhff— you - your, Finn, I—“ A hand presses down on his abdomen to keep him from jerking into the mouth over him. He closes his lips over Fern finally and it’s wet and hot and - oh, his tongue is weaving around him. “F- Finn you don’t ha- have t–“ he sobs out but his double doesn’t answer. He sinks down deep and swallows on him. Fern tries to silence himself in his own shoulder but the whimpering bounces around the room and makes the inorganic hand on his waist tighten. His double’s mismatched eyes dart up and read him. There’s a hot, wet noise when he comes back up for breath and pants. He lowers again and swirls his tongue once, twice then bows low, keeping eye contact. The sight of Finn: lips over him, chin wet with spit, hands grabbing, eyes warm and hair messed sets him off. “I- I’m going t–“ Finn slides his hands under his hips to lift him deep in his mouth. Fern’s legs vibrate, and an unbelievable buzz rushes through him. 

Finn doesn’t break their stare as he swallows and splays his hands wide to hold green thighs as Fern convulses. It’s perfect, his mouth feels perfect, the world is perfect right now. The last of his climax is dragged out of him and downed before Finn scoots up to kiss him, almost chaste. 

“You okay?” he pulls himself into Fern’s chest. 

“Tops.” He cradles the back of his head to bring him into another kiss. “You’re **so** tops.” Their lips meet, sloppy. Tasting himself should have been heinous but it was incredibly sensual. They break apart and Fern nuzzles his face into Finn’s hair. “Y’should sleep.” He materializes new shorts and pulls the blanket back up from where it was bunched at the end of the bed. Finn just watches him with a small smile. “Thinking about tomorrow?”

“Yeah. And that I should lock the door.” Fern extends creeping ivy to block and lock it. “Jake would prob just shrink under it anyway.” He turns his face into his pillow. The bedding smells but it’ll work. 

“Should I—“ he points to the floor, where tile has ripped up to expose stale dirt.

“What? no. C’mere.” He holds his arm up, offering a space to inch into. Fern shifts back and little spoons. “Your flowers smell like mint by the way.” Fern laughs for the first time in a month and he wants to bathe in it. He smiles into hair, which is fading to a strawberry blonde. “Your laugh,” he breathes, “that’s the first time you’ve laughed in weeks. I think about it a lot.” 

He curls Finn’s arm tighter around himself, “I don’t have a lot of them in me.” 

They fall asleep talking about their favorite quests, comparing differences.

Thanks for reading. :^)


	2. ENTITLE//Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ao3 posted the draft on accident lmao sry
> 
> im trying to match episode pacing but it feels awfully disjointed, so the next chapter might be a bit longer/thorough  
> the art was more planned out this chap  
> every1 clap for my twonk husb for doing poses for us  
> //golf claps// clap for pinterest refs 2 lmao  
> he helped me out so i could redraw the intro art  
> so check it out, its way less flat  
> stay safe

Finn and his Other were playing charades in their cell. Jake was trying to make it into pictionary and Fern agreed with him, but he had to remind them that not everyone can stretch and morph themselves, so they stuck to the traditional. The cell was sterile — the whole island was sterile. Everything was clean and plastic, making Fern feel otherworldly. They had started out well enough but were caught within an hour of stepping into the unnatural cityscape. 

They woke up just before sunrise, _small victories_ Fern thought to himself. If Jake found them like that what would he even say? What – who – would he blame it on? He didn’t know when that conversation was coming, or if it even was, but he chose to not fret on it for now. His double was plastered to him, requiring a good round of soft shakes before stirring. 

“Fern, mm, hi.” He yawned and rubbed at his eyes. “‘S’it mornin’?” 

“Almost.” He stood and reached for the ceiling to loosen up. “I’m gonna go outside for some sun soon. We have to leave in a bit. I wanted to plan before we left.” Finn blinked up at him, adjusting. He nodded and rolled onto his back to stretch in a large X shape. 

“H’kay. C’mere first.” He put his arms out and made motions with his hands. Fern leaned down, innocent. He was grabbed, smothered and manhandled. Finn let go. “Hey, before you leave, this is happening, right? I — last night.” Fern smiled sadly.

“Yeah, thanks, by the way.” They kissed, close mouthed and moderate but warm, safe. “I also like what’s in here,” he palms Finn’s chest, “though.” 

“Don’t thank me, it’s weird,” he laughed, “math. You’re a sap.” They made a plan for the island, convinced they’d find something out about their mom, and _Martin_ – making the stakes higher than realistic. 

Fern contemplated what it all meant during his sunrise routine. He spread himself wide, taking in the rays. He felt like he was Finn — knew that he was Finn, but the one he was traveling with had become estranged from the meaning of the word, despite his name. The Finn he knew wasn’t one he’d considered parallel to himself anymore. He was still everything that made up the profile, they both were, but he felt profoundly different despite equal comparisons. What made them different enough for what they were doing to be moral? He couldn’t pinpoint it, but he felt a wide canyon of disparity separating them. What happened to make them pick differently? To walk different ways given the chance? They were the same person with the same experiences, so they shouldn’t. He didn’t want to consider the answer he already knew. 

Susan-Kara confirmed their hunch once they boarded the ship. They were going to find their mother, be **delivered** to their mother – Minerva. Finn panicked aloud about what to do with his Other — green, flowering, bushy. Fern concentrated and pulled on his illusion, recreating a new (human) arm. He made the mirage full body and looked at his double pointedly, showing him his talent. He looked like Finn. Just Finn. No roughage at his elbows, or flowers in his hair, hair which would not change color. The only difference, subtle, his eyes - both yellow instead of his individual green and blue. Finn was dumbfounded, “huh,” he’d muttered. He wanted to touch, to see if he’d feel the lambs ear or plant stem texture he was used to, or something more like himself. “We look like twins.” 

“Functionally we are,” Fern deadpanned. 

Jake snickered and said they should take pictures with Jermaine for Christmas cards. Fern was glad he was being more included in the jokes, but the mention of family relations made Finn squick. They rode in silence, reaching the island in just under an hour. 

“I don’t know what’ll happen if you or Jake are found out. The colossus was put in place to keep mutants away. You might not be _mutants_ but you’re different. Just keep a low profile.” Susan turned to watch civilian life, gingerly tucking BMO into her elbow. “This place can have some scary characters if my memory is right. Stay together.” 

“Okay. Nothing suspicious. We’re gonna talk outside for a second.” He lead Fern to the doorway of the ship and really looked at the island for the first time. His expectations were blown, there was just **so much**. “Plan still stands. Just... please stay next to me.” He took the new arm in both hands. “Is this real?” It felt snakelike. 

“No, it’s made out of vines. Can you press your fingers to mine? I wanna copy the prints if they decide to ID us.” He pushed their hands flush.

“So you don’t have them?” Fern shook his head slowly, “Why’s that important to you?”

“I don’t know, but if I had them at least I’d have some base assurance that I am who I think I am...” he pressed his double’s prints to his ‘real’ hand. It was substantially warmer. 

“So. Mom.” Finn said, changing the subject, trying to avoid his mind getting lost in pointless and uncontrollable depressants. 

“I know. I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience,” Fern agreed. He took his hand back, compared the pads of their fingers and approved. “If we get separated I won’t be incinerated or something now, at least.” He glanced down at his double. “I hope.”

“We should probably be the same height. Why are you taller, by the way?” 

“I just... wanted to be? Hold on,” he forced himself to shrink a few inches, “this feels weird.” 

“Well, you can go back to being more handsome than me when we’re done with the reunion.” Fern’s eyebrows shot up as he grinned. “Don’t.” 

“You think I’m _handsome_.” He leaned in.

“No, ’m just self obsessed.” Finn mumbled into Fern’s lips. They pecked, quickly, hidden by the harsh shadows the all-white island created. The Mertens boys exchanged crooked smiles and called for their brother and escort. 

They could still see the ship when Kara spotted their mother. The boys grabbed hands, muttered amazements in panic and plans flew out the window. They whisper yelled ‘no, **you** go!’ For a minute before Finn drew enough courage to speak to her. Fern only approached when she didn’t reply. 

While they were trying to get through their seemingly amnesiac mother Jake made his time count — by getting them thrown in a cell. 

Presently he was pretending to play an instrument, trying to get Fern to guess his person and failing. “Shelby, man.” His Other makes an O with his mouth. Jake abandoned their game a long time ago to sleep, giving them the confidence to touch hands, artificial to artificial. “Hey, I uh — I was wondering. What you said on the boat...” Fern looks at him thoughtfully. “Will you tell me, now?” 

“Now that you’ve kissed me?” he asks, sarcastic. Finn raises his hands in defense. “Yeah. Yeah, alright.” He lays down and puts his head on his arms. “Gimme a sec to corral my dome words.” He closes his eyes and bites his lip. After a few seconds he makes a a small ‘hm’ sound and speaks. He’d obviously rehearsed it. “When I realized what happened I couldn’t do anything about it, so I just slept for a few days. There wasn’t much to do when you weren’t using me. I was angry at you so I didn’t talk much, but then you started asking me for advice and, I don’t know, I got over it.” He tilts his head to see if his double is keeping up. “I watched you grow up a lot. Eventually my brain stopped seeing us as the same person, and I... I started caring about you more than as a self interest. I started caring about you too much... I got comfortable being over your shoulder, being talked to in confidence, seeing you tear into yourself unnecessarily.” He lists these on his fingers. “I got jealous of HW,” he whispers. “I blamed being into you on the fact that I was stir crazy and you were all I saw, but I got out and you were still... I didn’t want options.” He pauses and watches Jake sleep, wondering if he’s listening. “My life has changed a lot, twice, in a really short time and I’m still bunk with adjusting. I’m so used to being right next to you.” 

“You are now, though.”

“It’s not the same. I’m happy that I’m, like – corporeal, but it’s different. I ran away from it the first time. You kept trying so hard to be close and it made me self conscious that you were acknowledging me. I didn’t want you to suspect anything, either... The grass sword changed things, too.” Finn nods in understanding. “It came into the picture when that junk with Bandit Princess happened and it dinked everything up real bad. It wanted out, so we got out, but the trade wa—” he’s physically stopped from saying more. “It wasn’t the same.” The information settles.

“I don’t know what to say,” Finn offers. Fern shakes his head, sits up and mock cracks his knuckles. There's no noise, or point, but it's comforting.

“I wouldn’t either. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Thanks for telling me.” Fern shrugs, “so you you’ve _been_ into me, huh?” He shoots Finn a look. “I’m flattered.” 

“I wanted to punch you this whole time, too, so.” They beam at each other and break into a shared fit of laughs. Jake wakes up and whines about it. 

The mom-bots come to them not long after Jake gets done trying to pry the nubs off his head again. They take samples of their blood and Fern’s comes out green. Jake makes an over dramaticized gasp. “It’s uh, chlorophyll, not ooze.” The test comes out positive for DNA of Finn Mertens... for both of them. The reality of their situation sinks in and Fern feels a slight nausea prick at him. _Maybe it’s just because I absorbed his..._ The Minerva copies still mid-movement. The irony isn’t lost on Jake though.

“What! Ya never seen two of the same person before?” He cackles at his own joke and the robots move again, standing aside and asking them to follow. 

They nod at each other and hold hands with their brother as they’re lead into a damp chamber. The only features were a pool and a large screen. Jake makes himself large so Fern can ride over the moat, just in case.

They all gasp when a blonde woman comes on-screen. They’d expected someone to come out and swing them into big hugs and settle into happy crying, but...

“What happened to you, mom?” 

“What happened to _you_ , Finn, _chlorophyll_?” She looks between them, not knowing which one to address. 

“An incident. We got uh, separated.” Finn turns to his Other, “can you show her?” He guiltily melts the guise of his humanity and waits for a reaction. “We’re still your son,” he offers, weakly. Her hand lifts to her mouth and she smiles sadly. 

“Oh,” she hiccups as she laughs, “look at you! You’re beautiful.” Finn swings an arm over his shoulder and agrees. 

“We are!” He yanks their hats down and on cue their mother flashes a proud grin. “We look like you. That’s so cool,” he speaks through his laugh. “Hey, say something,” he whispers and pokes into Fern’s side, but his Other is a bit star struck. 

“Hi mom. I,” he looks at the ground for a second before gathering courage, “I’m sorry you had to see us like this... you’re really pretty.” She tilts her head and pretends to hide a blush.

“Oh stop buttering up your poor mother, boys.” She clears her throat, “It seems we’re in a similar predicament.” She motions to the row of Minerva bots. “Except they’re hardly as good looking or charming.” 

She explains the illness and need for helpers. She also tries to tell them to stay. Finn gets mad at that but his Other stops him. He almost threatens to unplug her, _Stop, I wouldn’t do that._ but calms them down and asks for quiet. “Just show her what we do. Summary it, man, don’t try to be grease.” He suggests. They take turns letting their minds project acts of heroism and care.

Their mother is proud at the recount of events up to this point, praising them for their path. She still thinks it’s dangerous, but it’s home. Finn just wants to focus on getting humanity closer to Ooo. “There’s no more vampires! The only one left eats stuff like makeup and plastic! There’s a settlement of humans already there! You’d be protected by, like _five_ kingdoms and everything’d be free with how much dosh ‘n favors people owe us!” He works himself into a tizzy. 

Fern pulls him aside, “Should we tell her about Martin?” he whispers. 

Finn seems conflicted. “Maybe not today.” Fern agrees to keep quiet and hangs back, watching them talk about what she does on the island. 

He feels out of place. 

Dinner was tense. He felt awful for making them eat outside in the blaring sun. Sun that was only amplified from the color of their surroundings. Sun that would feed him. It was an enemy now – his leash handler – instead of something he looked forward to after long bouts of cloudiness. 

Jake asked Finn to give them a minute of privacy before heading back to the rundown hotel they would stay in. His double gave Fern a panicked blink before backing away. Their brother wouldn’t speak until he was out of earshot.

“Okay, out with it! What sorta jazz are ya all funked up with?” He slaps his knees.

“Oh. Um,” his face falls in relief. “I just feel weird being around mo– Minerva.”

“I get it. It can be hard, not being treated the same as your brothe—“

“We’re not brothers!” he protests.

“Yeeesh — I know, I know I’m just tryna make an example, buddy. You boys aren’t brothers but yer mom probly _needs_ ta see you guys like that to make sense of it.” Jake says in his ‘I’m the oldest so I know better’ voice. “How about you ask her for some one-on-one time?” 

“Yeah, maybe. Thanks Jake.” He sighs and stands up, brushing himself off before realizing there's no dirt to wipe. The island made him feel more uncomfortable than any mud. “I knew this would happen, that she would treat him like the original, even if I looked like this.” He holds his human hands up to his face. “I don’t know why I expected anything else.” If Jake says anything he isn’t interested in listening or answering, intently focused on finding a Minerva bot. 

He considers hurting a stranger, maybe gravely (just to be sure) to summon one. So far he’s been able to shake off his violent thoughts, but this one was actively trying to reason with him. It had never talked back before. It’s frightening. 

He spots one making the rounds in the shopping block. “Mom! Mom. Sorry, I wanted to ask if there’s anywhere on the island where it’s not... like this. Somewhere with grass?” It looks at him and he can hear something inside of her rumble to life in a very similar way to when BMO turns a game on. “Mom?” He cocks his head to the side. _Maybe I’m misunderstanding how to use these things._

“Hi honey,” she sing-songs, “sorry, I was caught up in something. Just follow this one and it’ll take you to a nice little field we use for teaching.” 

“Mom? Before you leave, I – I was wondering if it’d be alright for both of us to get some alone time with you before we go. Between the two of us, I mea—“

“Of course, Finn.” He wants to cry in relief at the use of his real name. “You two decide when. I’ll be here.” He nods and the white noise stops as the robot’s face blanks. 

It’s a short walk from where the rest of the group is sleeping. He holds the robot's hand on the way, unnoticed, and he can't tell if it makes him feel better or worse. There’s a shed about half a mile into the field with the words ‘seed bank’ printed on. Fern wonders about the genealogy and species of what would be grown here, given they’ve been isolated for hundreds of years. How many allopatric plants there might be, especially with those small off-shoot islands. 

He jumps when Finn steps out from behind it. 

“Sorry, I saw you tailing a mom bot.” He ducks his head in apology. “What did Jake want?” 

“To lecture me about Minerva.” Fern slings his backpack to the ground. “Something about sharing attention between siblings, but I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Oh. Was I hogging her?” 

“No – no. Mom is just treating you better. Which I knew would happen but wasn’t ready to see, I guess.” Finn’s hands clench at that but his face carefully remains light and unquestioning, “I shouldn’t’ve let her know what I really look like.” He raises both arms and lets the skin suit melt, retracting the vines that made up the fake back into his shoulder. 

“All that matters is that you didn’t lie to her, man.” Fern shrugs at that and slips his arm around his double’s back in a loose hug. 

“I’ve thought about this day for years and she looked at me like I was intruding on you guys,” he mutters into Finn’s neck. “I asked for one on one time. We should see her by ourselves tomorrow.” 

Finn thinks about saying ‘do you want me to talk to her?’ but knows the reaction that’d bring. “Okay. That was smart,” he whispers, tilting his head to rest on Fern’s for a moment before pulling back and beckoning him to sit. “Do you think she’s still herself?”

“What do you mean?” Fern lays back in the grass, letting himself root and detox. “Wuf, my stems got sore on that ground.” 

“I know. It feels way weird to walk on.” He cracks his toes against the dirt. “She’s been uploaded for so long, like, is she still the same person as she was before?” Finn leans back on his elbows and watches the sun set. 

“Does it matter?” His hair flashes a myriad of colors at the implications. “You’ll drive yourself crazy wondering.” 

“I guess. I just wish I got to meet the real her.” He turns to Fern, whose head has turned matte black. “You know what I mean. Her from when she was with Martin.”

“Yeah,” he says, breathless, trying to seem unaffected. “She’s probably changed, maybe less empathy or something – she’s been inhuman for a long time.” It’s an admission about himself, too. Finn makes a tiny grimace, recognizing the connotation. 

“D'you think she loves us? Can love us?”

“Only evil people don’t love you,” he says without a hint of comedy in his voice. “Yes, I think she does – can.” 

They relax and speak intermittently about what life would be like had they not been separated by the sea. 

Their view of the sundown is interrupted by a sudden blaring light and an announcement shouting in the distance. “ **IT IS SUNDOWN. IT IS SUNDOWN. PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR HOMES. IT IS SU** –“ 

“Biscuits. Okay, c’mon.” Finn stands, hand outstretched to help his Other up. He takes it and they let the contact continue on the walk back to their guest rooms. Fern eyes their conjoined fingers – plant to metal – and Finn loosens his hand in case it’s wrong. “Fern?” They stop and study each other. “Is this okay?” He jostles their hands mid air. His Other steps closer. 

“I think so. I feel like we’re different enough, but I’m not sure how.” 

Finn gives him a fierce look of confidence before kissing him, hard. “The the way you work, the way you speak, how you treat your things," he speaks in the spaces between his lips traveling on his face, "how you move, you’re stronger and smarter than me, you’re more patient, and you’re not blindly optimistic." He pulls back. “I could figure out more if you give me some time.” 

Fern lets out an airy laugh during the barrage, settling into a lopsided smile. “Thanks. I was getting too in my head.” 

“Anytime.” They continue walking, hand-in-hand, strides matching.

“You really pay attention, huh.” It’s not a question. 

“Well, I’ve been just about stalking you for months.” 

Fern raises his eyebrows in amusement.

They’re supposed to sleep apart that night, rooming next to one another in an abandoned building meant for visitors from the other islands. Everything smells stale. Fern only wakes up when he feels the presence of someone watching him. He deploys his sword in a fit of half-awake horror.

“AH! Hey, hey it’s just me.” He feels Finn’s hands clamp down on his shoulders. “Jeez. Y’almost skronked me up real bad.” 

His wrist swallows the weapon and he fights to open his eyes. “M’srry. Not a good waker.” 

Finn says nothing, just crawls under the sheet next to him, burying his face into his neck and wrapping and his metal arm around his chest. Fern snorts and presses a sloppy peck to the forehead in front of him. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” Fern makes a small ‘mm’ sound, a signal that he’s not completely gone. “Think m’getting too used to sleepin’ on you.” 

“Hmmm s’good.” Finn ends up buried deeper into his Other’s body. _Good huh._ Finn silently laughs to himself. “N’we don’t’ve t’ fight o’er th’bed at ho–ohhOhme,” he yawns into the last word.

“Hmm.” Finn pats his side. “G’night.” 

Finn doesn’t wake up again until he’s shaken to half-consciousness from something in the room making a low growl. He turns his head barely an inch to find glowing green eyes piercing through him. He’s too tired to comprehend or panic, and immediately falls back into a dead sleep. Later he assumes it was a nightmare, maybe some subconscious idea about what Fern is. He shakes it away.

The morning sun becomes a bit too much to keep facing, and when Finn turns away from the window he finds an awake Fern looking at him fondly, hair blossoming in simple white laurels. The corners of his mouth twitch at the sentiment. He wasn’t used to the kind of soft gaze he was receiving. He puts on a lazy smile, watching his Other’s hair heat up into a nice salmon pink. They study each other breathe for a moment before he eases forward, their feet touch, shaking them a bit from the trance. “Morning,” he whispers. Fern stays quiet, sliding his hand across Finn’s jaw, thumbing his cheekbone. It feels like they’re gathering up courage to kiss for the first time despite the night they shared not even a day ago. His breath hitches when his Other closes the gap. Kissing him in the light of the day makes his head fuzzy. They have a silent conversation through small touches. 

They didn’t do anything other than kiss, an unspoken agreement, it felt wrong to do something more given they were going to see their mother in a few hours. Thinking about it gave him a case of the morbs. They are her son, singular, being intimate. The words curdle in his mind but his body doesn’t react the same way, it just sends a sweet shock through his legs. _Oh, that’s..._ Exciting? Revolting? He can’t tell, the emotions swim together, becoming far too mixed up to identify. _There’s always something._ There **is** always something, a catch to the people he peruses. Too old, too gay, too dangerous to touch, too wild. The way his face is being held though, lips trailing from his own, to his cheeks, eyelids, nose. He’d never been given as much adulate attention. And he'd never returned it. He didn’t want to think about the infinite ways this could erupt, because there was a hand untangling his hair and a nose trying to discreetly memorize the smell of his morning skin. He had a creepy infatuate crush on his boss - probably from the power disparity, thought his vampire friend was a 'bad girl' knockout, enjoyed the challenge of Phoebe and admired the primitive nature of Huntress Wizard – but with Fern it wasn’t just a fleeting thing of novelty that attracted him. It was encompassing. They were each other; they knew every single thing the other had done. It's a vague kind of comfort, an already established level of intimacy and commitment.

He lifts his mouth to catch the smile buried in his hair and speaks into it, “we should probably–“

“Mhm, Jake’ll be yelling soon.” Fern rolls off of him and stretches, touching his toes as he kicks his legs up in the air. “I’ve got a master bath, you can shower here. ‘M gonna go back to the field today, we should spar later.” 

How had Finn never thought of that? He was suddenly **very** excited. “Tops, yeah, okay. That sounds great.” 

Fern turns to give him a silent snort and an eye roll. “You’re easy. I’ll take care of talking about Martin. You should go after me, in case she wants to talk about him with you.” 

“You’d do that?”

“I’ve been planning what to say. I want her to feel like she’s still my mom, so it’ll help my case... anyway.” 

Fern helps him stretch and Finn thinks about how much his mask fell in one day. He wasn’t really that quiet, he was just nervous. And he wasn’t all that gentle either – he was actually very forward and sure of himself. He had a strange, dark sense of humor and openly said what Finn thought deep down, in the back of his mind – thoughts that were violent on occasion. He understood, it’s hard to not think that way when it’s the solution for your day most of the time. 

Fern split while Finn was in the shower, let Jake know their plans and told him to not come find them for dinner. Jake was glad they were getting along. His stomach ached when he was praised for it. He put his human trick up. 

The walk to his mother’s chamber was awkward. People turned to stare and ogle at him, and he had to look at himself a fair few times to make sure he wasn’t green. His arrest drummed up quite a lot of attention. According to Minerva nothing like that had happened on the island for ten years. Nothing. They spoke about hiders, The Founders, their crops.

The conversation settled and he decided to take the plunge. 

“Mom? I’ve been thinking about how to phrase this for a while but nothing sounds right. If I tell you about Martin when he was in Ooo will you tell me what he was like here?” 

She stared at that, for a few beats she just looked at him. “He was... what do you mean? Was?”

“He, uh – Grob, this is a weird story. We were in space? And he left our physical plane to live in 5D or something.” He rushed through the words. “We met him in a space prison, actually. It’s a pretty consistent theme.” 

She pursed her lips but signaled for him to continue. 

_This is going to sound like my brains went up the spout._ “Uh, okay, so he was a space pirate or something really Martin-ish.” She did laugh sadly at that. “We broke him out, but he booked it. We met again when he crashed...” he told the story, measuring his mother’s reactions. She smiled wide at some parts, looking oddly nostalgic. “But honestly, mom, I don’t know how you could like the guy. He was fat and bald and never told the truth.” He hit his knee with his hand. “AND! He had this infuriating wink that I wanted to rip off his face.” 

She laughed even harder at that. “He was good looking when we dated, but still as much of a rascal. We met when he was breaking the law, actually.” Her gaze went far-off and cheeks rosy. “He wound up on my chart in a hider accident. He barely knew how to do anything but flirt and lie, but he was so _charming_.” Fern let himself be taken on a ride. 

Her story doesn’t end wistful.

It ends in abandonment for both of them. They tried to pull details from their stories to make sense of it. She said the mention of a tiger sounded familiar. There was a hider with a tiger on the beach when he ran that day. The same hider that had to take re-ed, re-ed he got out of for a date. A hider he had double crossed. The house was destroyed, claw marks in furniture, the walls, photos. They put two and two together, not saying anything. 

When you burn enough bridges the only way to move is forward.

Minerva pulls him into a hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She says, and pats his cheek before he turns to leave. He needs to lay down. 

Finn is in the lobby looking through photos on his phone. “Homesick?” Fern asks. He jumps, shakes his head and hands it over. He flips through the pictures. “When did you take these?” Some were of him, mom, Susan piloting, the island, Jake as a boat, the wreckage, etc. 

“I’m just sneaky.” He says without emotion. “How was it?” 

“Heavy. She’ll — tell you. Or I’ll tell you later,” he chokes out, voice tight. Fern’s eyes are full of tears he doesn’t let fall. “She’s waiting for you. I’ve gotta go clear my head.” 

Finn takes his hand and squeezes before letting him go.

“Does it feel like yourself when you’re in one?” He takes one of ‘her’ hands in his.

“Oh goodness no. I’ve been working on a body like that, but it’s slow going without outside tech or imports.” 

“Soooo it’s probably a good idea you visit, right?”

She laughs. “Maybe. Maybe soon I’ll find myself on the shores of Ooo and meet your colorful cast of friends, hm?” 

“I hope sooner than later.” The silence hangs awkwardly. He gathers resolve. “Listen, mom, Fern – uh – he was really upset when he left.”

“Yes,” she folds her hands and sighs, “yes, he was. What we spoke about was... enlightening.” 

“Yeah?” 

She tells him about their hunch, about Martin as a person. Finn tries to listen but her voice is so disjointed and small that it's hard.

“Finn,” she looks at him seriously, “do you trust him?” 

“What?” He takes his hand back.

"The other one," she says it like nothing's wrong with the phrasing. Like it's right. 

"Why?"

“Well, honey, he’s not human.” 

“I mean, you’re not either.” It’s out before he can think it. “He’s just me, mom. I could’ve been the one turned into... it was a 50/50 chance, we didn’t know what would happen.” 

“When you did what?” She’s trying to sound patient, but the words come out too quickly.

He takes a moment before speaking. “It saved my friend’s life. He duplicated our realities. I just – I only tapped him on the shoulder!” He rests his head on his knees. The guilt from that day was something he’d been repressing. “I did it to him, so yeah – yes, I trust him.”

“Okay, sweetie. It’s just all so much for me to wrap my head around. I had you, not him.” 

He cringed. “If you wanna speak in technicalities, then _technically_ mom, you had neither of us. Listen, a lot of crazy nasty junk happened. Happens." He doesn’t look up. “It was a long time ago. I wished that the bomb never went off. It worked but it didn’t get rid of this world.” _That’s basically the truth._ “It got all donked up and Jake had to make a wish that negated it. That place couldn’t be deleted, so...” 

“My son is in another dimension,” she finishes for him, skeptical. "Show me."

He does. He shows her the day Prismo called them for their mission, he shows her wish world Finn, he shows her the making of the Finn Sword and how Fern came to life. She remains silent, even as he takes on the grass curse. He worries that it'll vindicate her trepidation. He nearly cries when he projects the memory of Fern's psychotic break. 

“We're your son. If you wanna think he's the original I can't stop you. It happened and never happened.” He recalled what Prismo said, trying to make sense of it. “I don’t remember being him." He calls to mind the scene of ice Finn's family, showing her that his parents are together. That he's not her's, that he has a mom. 

She makes a sharp noise, trying to silence a sob. He wonders if she remembers what it’s like to cry.

He decides he should probably leave and let her process everything. It’s a lot. “I’m gonna go, I don't know how to make any of this easier.” 

“Oh,” she squeaks out, “oh gosh, my baby boy.” He doesn’t know if she’s talking about him.

He lets her pet his hair and strangle him in a hug with superhuman strength before they say goodbye. The bot shuts down, but the screen doesn’t turn on either so he assumes she’s retreated somewhere she can let out whatever she’s feeling. 

He swims through the moat, floating on his back for a minute before getting out. The walk to the field is embarrassing, and he wants to scream ‘I’m your leader’s son! What’re you lookin at!?’ He makes fists and grips so hard that he pulls blood from his palm. The buildings become less populated, the people thin out, he can see the schoolhouse and speed walks the rest of the way. He’s fuming. 

Fern sits up, eyes burning and blurry from crying. He can’t really see who’s coming but they’re making good time and are practically radiating red with anger.

“Hey.” 

“Finn.” He nods a hello.

His double drops down next to him and punches the dirt. “I’m sorry.” 

Fern doesn’t say anything. He rubs his eyes and leans on his elbow, looking expectant. 

“Told her about the wish.”

“And?” 

“And! She thinks her kid is there.” He lets out a guttural, exhausted yell. “I was just — she said she didn’t have you, but she didn’t have me either if — I was trying to — “

“I get it.” 

Finn launches himself back up, rips his hat off and throws his pack to the ground. “Let’s go.” He waves his hands and ties his hair back.

Fern sighs and lets himself be pulled up and kissed roughly. “Are we sparring or making out?” 

“Both I guess. Come on.” He strips his top off and takes ten steps back.

Fern turns the suggestion over in his head, which agrees wholeheartedly that this is a good idea before absorbing his shirt. “Fine. What’re the stakes?"

"Loser bottoms."

"Bottoms?”

Finn gives him a pointed look, it clicks and he bursts out into an insane laugh, before noting the steeliness of his double’s eyes. “Oh, holy shit, you’re not joking.” Finn shakes his head and lifts his fists. Fern’s eyebrows shoot up. “Okay.” 

“Ready?” 

“No.” He matches Finn’s stance. 

Fern wipes the floor with him. Even with the advantage of having two arms, they were just more leverage for him to be tossed in the air or pulled into a death lock with. He _also_ breaks his only hair tie, a pink one he stole from Marcy years back. They tumble in the grass until they feel better. 

He tries to apologize and says he won’t cash in the win because it’s creepy, but Finn bites his ear and whispers, “I didn't want to win.” Fern's hair goes from white to a deep red. They jerk each other off behind the shed, knocking knees and elbows together awkwardly, but it’s perfect. 

They stay for five more days. Fern sticks around Jake and they play card wars or BMO. Finn visits their mother every day for at least two hours. His Other only sees her three more times. They spar every night before dinner, managing to stay squarely behind second base when the mood overwhelms them. 

On the last day she calls for them both and says sorry for being unable to understand their situation. “I’m a hypocrite,” she says to Fern especially. “You were right, Finn. I have no room to judge, and it was very mature of you to stand up for yourselves.” He appreciates it and they kiss the Minerva bot she possesses on the cheek before leaving to pack. 

Susan doesn’t turn up for a long time. She’s been hardly present for their visit, and introduces them to her ‘friend’ Frida while they’re planning their escape from the colossus. They hold hands and Fern nudges his double, smirking, as if saying ‘it's not just us’ and Finn rolls his eyes, but can’t help the stupid smile he wears. They decide to help each other leave.

Their mother and a small crowd watch them push off in a brand new seeker ship. They agreed not to cry, because it wasn’t forever, but it was hard not to. They’d visit, or the settlement would find a home in Ooo. They deploy a hologram of the group leaving on a merchant ship, goading the colossus out of its depths. It was an easy escape after they’d patched Minerva in to call it off. The real liner sails close to pick them up, and they wave off Susan and Frida. The happy couple was going to find new adventure in a new land. Their mother has given them human-tech goggles to wear as soon as the task was done. They share a look and put them on. Blackness, and then a home blinks into existence. 

“Homey,” Finn observes.

“It was.” The boys turn, their mother smiles. 

“Mom.” They say in unison. She holds their hands.

“Be good, don’t get into too much trouble, get tested for new allergies every few years, don’t stay up too late, don’t argue with each other too much.” Her hands ghost over their shoulders, she pulls them into a hug. “You’ll be too far to talk soon.” 

“We’ll visit.” Finn whispers.

“Love you.” Fern whimpers, and clings tighter as she flits out of being. He takes his headset off first. Finn lets a few tears fall and keeps his on. He continues to mutter to himself, hoping she can still hear him. Fern doesn’t want to intrude, so he walks further down the deck. He sits and puts his head on his arm, and Jake brings him into a half hug. 

“She loves you kids.” 

“D’you think he’s gonna be alright?” They turn to look at his double, white knuckle gripping the gunwale.

“In a while.” 

Fern approaches him an hour later, he’s since tossed the device to the floor and is leaning on the nose of the boat, eyes closed. He stands a few feet behind Finn, knowing he can sense his presence, and waits for him to speak. If he wants to.

It doesn’t take long. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and lets out a yell. “I feel worse than I did before.” His voice is so small. “Like leaving is this awful **thing** we’re choosing to do **again**! Dad could’ve gone to a cop, or called mom, but he didn’t. And – and, I love everything we have at home but **gob** , man, he screwed up.” He turns around, crumples to the ground, and slams his head back against the boat. It makes a metallic echo. “And this feels like we’re betraying her.” 

Fern crouches to keep their gaze level and brings his palm up to rest on Finn’s shoulder slowly enough that he can dodge it. “I know _you_ know you’re not, but in case you need to hear it: you’re not betraying her.” Finn launches at him, wrapping his arms around his middle, momentum splaying them on the deck. Fern tilts his head back to look at Jake and nod him off. He just puts his hands up, shrugs and backs away. 

“Can you stay with me for a few minutes?” 

“However long you want.” He reaches across himself to pet the head tucked into his right side. Finn sniffs and rolls onto his back. His eyebrows are pinched together, mouth in a deep frown, eyes red. “You didn’t betray her,” he reiterates, almost unheard over the wind. 

Finn just blinks back and forth from his face to the sky. He closes his eyes and tries the breathing exercise PB suggests once a month. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six — he grounds himself. “Yeah, but we’ve left her two times now. How about you stay in Ooo and I’ll just be with mom. Live a dull, plain human life with their gross food shakes.” 

“You’re being dramatic,” Fern says, “but you know, you _can_ do that. You don’t have a responsibility to Ooo, I know you think you do but you can just leave. You’ve done way more than enough for them.” Finn turns his head and lets his cheek rub against the floor, face pensive. Fern meets it. Neither says anything. 

They fall asleep to stories BMO has cooked up, his perception of the world makes it easy. They’ll be on the shores of home in a day thanks to the autocaptain. 

The nightmare Fern has is vague. He swallows himself multiple times, falls apart in the wind and overtakes everything around him. He can’t stop growing, and when he runs his body deteriorates, he screams and grabs at his own grass which is spreading in every direction. He looks down. Human hands. Everything outside of him is greenery. If he looks inside of himself it’s human. The seam between both is thin and weak. 

He runs and runs, runs straight into a ziggurat. Finn is standing atop of it. “Fern?” They climb toward one another and enmesh.

His body moves without input, his mind speaks in an unfamiliar voice. They fit together and it feels sensual until he realizes he’s being torn in every direction. His only arm turns brown and crumbles. There are hands inside of him, ripping him apart. Teeth grinding, scared eyes. Two lighthouses casting a sickly lime glow on his own face. He wakes up with a jolt. The others are still asleep. He turns over and meditates until he’s tired again. The last scene of his potential croak dream fresh in his mind.

Thanks for reading!

  



	3. SUFFUSE//Elements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive redone the story outline so we've got more chapters to go thru  
> not just 4  
> but EIGHT  
> anyway  
> thank you for reading  
> and entertaining my pandemic fic
> 
> ps here's a list of Fern's hair emotions: https://imgur.com/ryCTFcI

Pink. It invades their senses but Jake tries to deny it. When they dock the sun is low in the sky. They wander home, slow and careful. Everything is different, but in a very same-y way, like the world’s hue shifted. The island was blank, their home turned technicolor - sensory deprivation and overload back-to-back. Fern isn’t grounded when he touches down, it feels more plasticky than the turf of his mother’s peninsula.

“I’m glad we’re home, as weird as everything is I just need some sleep.” Fern makes conversation as Jake walks ahead of them. 

“I haven't slept a full night in a week.” Finn acknowledges him from the corner of his right, blue eye. 

"I don't know where to go now," he realizes out loud.

Finn stops walking, turns around and places his warm hand to the center of Fern’s chest. "You come home."

"I guess." 

Fern stays outside while the treehouse is checked. He twists a lock of hair between his fingers. _Maybe I won’t wear a hat anymore._ Neither of them have really been wearing one, not since they started to compliment and pet the other's. It would make him individually recognizable, different, _but_ hair gets in the way when you’re fighting. Maybe he’ll have Marcy cut it. As much as his double didn’t care for his own, he did. Finn’s is long out of laziness, his is closer to preference. He hums in thought. 

“Neptr’s – different, but everything’s calm, I guess,” Finn says, climbing down the ladder.

“What? What’s wrong with him?” Fern panics a little. 

“He’s candy. Everything’s just — candy! PB must’ve done something.” He taps his fingers together. “Everything’s sticky. I hate this,” he whines. 

Fern ruminates on the news, tries to lift his left foot and it meets a bit of resistance. “Gross. Should we head to the castle?” 

Jake saunters out the front door eating a bit of cake. “Mnah, the little guy said something about a tower.” He holds it up as an offer but they both lean away. “Heh, yeah, this could be part’a the toilet.” He downs it in one exaggerated bite. 

“You’re nasty, Jake,” Finn grimaces. He turns toward the rock candy mountains, now changed into candy corn. It's all very surreal. “C’mon, lets go.” He picks up BMO and stomps off. 

“Neptr is cute now!” The little guy yells and waves his arms in the air as he’s carried away.

They have to speed walk to keep up with his double. “Finn! Slow down! You’re gonna pop something!” Jake yells.

“No way! We gotta fix this, it’s all messed, man. I’m _freakin’_!” He shakes his head and widens his gait. 

Jake grabs him by the pack and makes him stop, “It’s not gonna get done any faster if ya can’t think clear-like.” 

Finn doesn’t seem to listen, but he does slow his gait to a feisty march instead of a walking sprint. He continues sulking to himself and cursing at their surroundings for the rest of their directionless journey. He doesn’t like change, change feels too close to abandonment. Every time his life changes someone or something leaves him. As they get closer to the border between the grasslands and the Candy Kingdom they hear crying, and follow the noise to a quivering Sweet P, hunched over below a birch. Fern wonders to himself if the sap has been replaced with syrup. 

“Sweet P! Hey sugar pie why you cryaAH! Ahaha!” He slaps his arm lightly. “He’s not candy!” 

“No, I am not candy. Not like everything else,” he sniffles.

“What happened buddy?” Jake pets his arm. Finn hands BMO over to Fern, who sets him on his head.

“A pink wave came one day and turned everything weird.” He looks off in the distance. ”Mommy and daddy are not themselves.” Fern didn’t like how Sweet P’s rhotacism made him feel. Anger rising hot in his stomach, at the Rs turned to Ws, and at himself. 

The gears in Fern’s brain turn. “We should go, fast,” he whispers from behind and steps up to take Sweet P’s hand in his own. “We’re gonna get everything back to normal, can you tell us where ‘the tower’ is?” The large mitt lifts from his palm and points northwest. Fern blooms a daffodil and wraps it on his bad horn to cheer him up. “You’re a real help.” He takes off running. 

“Thanks pal, hang in there,” Jake says and stretches to catch up. Finn comes last, dawdling a bit to smile at the child in reassurance, sprinting away to settle into a jog next to his Other. 

“We gotta get this done soon, if everything’s candy then there’s no water, and I’m **not** gonna be useless,” he stresses. No water meant no energy. 

“You won’t be,” Finn protests but doesn’t fight him. 

“That’s the plan.” 

“Boys! Stop buggin’ out!” Jake calls, “I’m the oldest! Hey! Listen ta me!” 

They burst through the clearing that frames the tower and something swoops past overhead. It’s large, and giggling. “Hey! Git down here and fight me!” Finn peacocks, sword raised. It breaches the clouds laughing, zooming towards them. 

“A smore?” Jake sputters. Finn roars and throws his weapon. It misses, by a lot, and almost embeds itself in his head.

“Wohohoa pals! We playin’ darts?” It shrinks and pops into the form of an angled but soft Marceline. 

“Marcy?” Fern tilts his head, “where’s the princess?” 

“She’s right there, you sillies!” She points at the pink skyscraper. ”She’s _everywhere_!”

Fern is exasperated. They hear a song coming from the peak of the gum mountain and their feet begin to wobble, turning translucent and pink. His mind keeps telling him to _kill, think later. Kill, think later. These aren’t your friends, they’re wrong, they’re trying to change you again. Kill – think later -_ He clutches at his head, knocking BMO off.

“Oh dang, we gotta go. This is real bad.” There’s a mass of blond hair in his face. Finn is throwing him over his shoulder and yelling for Jake to lift them into a tree, onto a rock, anything. “Get us up, man!”

Everything blurs, they’re being pulled through the air, BMO is left behind and Fern passes out for the second time in a week. 

Finn is overjoyed to see the man, his kind-of-normal Ice King self is routine. He sets Fern's body down and it slumps, Simon hovers over them.

“Ice King! Glad to see ya. Can you gimme some’a your snow?” He collects a ball of it in his hands and lets it melt, dripping from his left palm onto his Other’s peaceful sleep-face. “Wake up plantboy. Don’t shank us,” he sing-songs. 

“W’ya do that for?” Fern groans and wipes the droplets off. 

“You blacked out,” Finn pets his shoulder, “we’re in Cloud Kingdom.” 

“Oh, great. **Cloud Kingdom**.” He sits up and shakes his panic-bleached hair dry, “Simon?” He looks around. Everything is sky.

“Yeah, man. He saved us, pulled us up before we turned taffy.” He brings his flesh hand up to cup the back of Fern’s neck. 

“Oh, that’s nothin’ for my best buds!” Simon waves them off. 

“It totally is somethin’ IK. Guess it was a good thing you stole all those hangers.” Finn swipes a thumb back and forth over his nape, hidden by blooming hair. “We’ve got a situation.” 

“Of course,” Fern sighs, “of course we do.” 

Simon tells them about his date, entertaining but sad once you know an extra detail. Betty’s damage. It lead into the explosion of elemental power that divvied up the country below them. 

“So, start with the Ice Kingdom?” Jake asks. 

“Yeah. It seems sorta cause and effect.” Fern agrees and leans into Finn’s hand. He goes rigid as soon as he notices what he’s doing, but the fingers just massage deeper. 

“You guys can stay in my guest house tonight.” Simon turns and motions his hands about, manipulating the moisture in the clouds to pull a kingdom house in close. “Very exclusive.” He raises and lowers his brows to emphasize his words. 

“Uh, thanks, Simon.” Finn slides his palm down to pat Fern on the back and stands, ushering the older man off to talk privately. 

Fern scoots his way to an edge of the cloud. “This is a lot. I’m way emotionally drained.” He tells Jake, who nods and peers around with Finn’s travel scope.

“All’s you need’s a long nap, you’ll be a brand new baby tomorrow.” He swings to the right. “It looks like a giant booger.” 

“I know, and we might have to go down there.”

“Fire Kingdom don’t look much better.” He passes the monocular over. “It’s so hot it’s blue.” The silver glint of it materializes a lump in Fern’s throat. He slides off the wisp when he feels a cool hand at his back. “Woah, pal, none’a that.” Jake wraps an arm around him and ushers him back. The telescope falls to the ground.

“Sorry, man.” Finn kneels and pats his back. “Just wanted to tell you that Simon’ll make you some snow to melt whenever you need it, so you don’t have to use the ground kind.” Fern’s eyes are still wide with fright, but he nods. “Cool. Jake,” he turns his attention to their brother, “I grabbed some nosh from home but it all turned to sweets.” 

“Food’s food,” he shrugs and leaves to rummage through the backpack. 

“You okay?” Finn sits to his right, their thighs and shoulders touch. 

“I almost leapt to my death, but other than that, sure,” he says without malice. “You calmed down pretty quick,” he observes.

“Told you, I’m zen.” Finn nudges his side with his elbow. 

He returns it. “Yeah, alright mister maturity. Sorry about your telescope.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got another one at home, if it ever turns back," he mutters the last few words under his breath. "Um – listen. When this is done do you wanna, like — do something? Just us?” Finn polishes his metal hand on his shirt to keep from showing signs of anxiousness.

“Are you trying to _date_ me?” Fern asks, incredulous. His double rubs the back of his head. “Wow, you are. Yeah, okay. Math.”

“Oh, cool. That’s — cool,” he says, giving him a dopey smile. Fern mirrors it and puts his bad arm over his double's neck, forgetting for a second. Finn laughs and gives him best-wishes for going through the phantom limb phase. He reminisces to Fern about all the junk he let fall and all the punches that went unlaid during the adjustment period. 

Doing anything for a substantial amount of time on a cloud is nerve wracking, Finn decides, and he’ll never set foot on one again if it was within his power. It was too easy to be jerked from sleep at the thought of plummeting to the ground. He lays awake, making small shapes with his puffy cloud cover, thinking about what the divided kingdoms meant. Patience St Pim was a key figure. She was nutso about being an elemental — it seemed obvious that this was her fault, but how? Why was Bonnie turned into an amalgamation of pink tendrils? And why was Betty missing? Why would she matter? Fatigue fogs his judgement. Fern grinds his teeth in his sleep, the sound reminds him to talk to someone about a mouth guard. It’s grating, and painful to listen to – and he cares a lot if it hurts him.

He shifts closer and sweeps a bit of Fern’s hair into his hand, bringing a section of scattered buds to his face. He barely touches them and they open. Mint. He inhales. Finn had made an offer earlier as a sort of olive branch back into what they started. The mood during the reunion was very familial. He wanted to move what they were **substantially** opposite from the border of family and away from being referred to as siblings. They were morally, invisibly prevented from doing much. Not when their mother was a ghost in the machine all around them. The world just keeps shoving them apart as if saying, ‘leave room for The Globs.’ He chews his lip and buries his head in a mountain of cloud to drown out the sound of teeth milling. He dreams green and pink. 

He wakes slowly to Fern petting him. “We’re gonna powwow soon. Y’should get up. They’re outside talking strat.” 

Finn wants to roll over and dig himself deeper, dead to the world. Sleeping at this altitude did him wrong. Everything aches. He catches the hand, squeezes it as an ‘OK,’ and kisses green knuckles. Fern’s hair splotches with small pink flowers as Finn takes his face in his palms. They kiss upside down. Fern’s fingers dig roughly into the hair at the base of his neck. 

“Don’t, grob, we’ve gotta find Betty. I’m gonna crack if you do that.” He squeezes his eyes and thinks about a myriad of people he wouldn’t want to see nude.

“I know, I’m just — sorry. Come on.” He says come on, but kneels over him for a few more seconds before standing and combing his hair out with his fingers. 

“No, I know. Me, too.” He gets up slowly, body screaming, and slots his mouth next to Fern’s ear. “When all this junk is over.” He places a hand on his shoulder and a kiss on his cheek before turning to walk outside. “Simon—n!” 

“Finn! My _other_ bestie!” He’s beckoned over. “We were just going through the plan. Come, come, take a seat.” 

He doesn’t know why he trusts anyone, he thinks, falling through the air. Fern’s jumped after him and grabbed onto his pack. Finn isn’t scared, just very _not_ in the mood for Ice King’s GREAT ideas. He points his sword at a fault line of the ice dome they’re hurdling toward, and his Other wraps his legs around his chest, morphing his arm parachute-like once they break ice.

“That was fun,” Fern says, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Finn grunts back. 

Jake and Simon come next, he sculpts a sled and they regroup. 

It’s not cold, not really. It feels emotionally heavy, and the air bites like dry ice. Nothing moves. Any light they use is absorbed by whatever surface it lands on, nothing reflects, everything is hungry and empty. Finn wouldn’t consider the old Ice Kingdom cheery but he was wrong, obviously. Fern tucks his knees into his Finn-sweater, grows his hat into a cowl, and pulls his hair forward to warm his ears. 

“Depressing.” 

Finn grunts back. 

Fern eyes him, _he’s probably tired_ and turns back to snow proofing himself. He braids roots along the bottoms of his feet and allows them to die. He tugs them tighter and tests them by sticking his right heel out of the sled and onto snow they pass. He feels nothing, it works. That should be good enough. 

They almost crash a good few times but it doesn’t take long to reach the mountain that houses Simon’s cavern. The dome that covers them sucks the light out of their searching, so it should take a long time to find a way in, but Jake tells them to leave it to him. He covers the mountain base with his body, prodding for holes or weak spots. He finds one, oddly well drilled and conveniently close to the ground. 

They’re deposited in some kind of ball room. Simon and Jake smell food and follow their noses to plates of shrimp, he waves them off. 

“Alright, watch my back,” he directs Fern. “ **Patience St Pim, get _out_ here and fix this! Or I’ll kick you and break stuff**!” He swings his sword up and waits. He hears a sigh.

“Sup nerds.” The voice isn’t that far away. “I was wondering when you’d be back. About time. How was your vaycay?” Patience is huge. The Mertens boys look at each other and gape a bit. “You gonna fix this?” She hovers into the room and sets her hand on an ice sculpture depicting the elemental princesses. Fern stretches his arm and tries to immobilize her, but it passes through her lower body. “Down, _weed_.” He fumes at the name, but Finn puts a hand on his shoulder signaling to let him talk.

“ **You** fix it, it's **your mess**!"

“You’re lookin at the wrong lady. The other three went gaga and took the express lane to crazy town.” She tilts the sunglasses sitting on her nose a bit to condescend."I can't do anything about it." 

****

****

“Blaming it on the princesses? But I guess that doesn’t mean a lot coming from you.” Finn pokes his sword in the air at her.

“Your low confidence in me shatters the heart, I’m crushed.” She rests the back of a hand against her forehead in mock-hurt. “I just showed them what they really are, not my fault they snapped.” She takes a shrimp, Simon jumps at the size of the hand that passes by. “I just wanted, like, the gang to fulfill our destinies, or whatever.” The platter slides to the side, revealing Betty, suspended in an ice table. 

“What did you do to her?” Finn nods toward the block.

“She was useful. Nothing personal, I needed more magic.” She raises her hands and shrugs. “Take her, whatever.” 

Simon lifts the cold brick to lean against the wall. “Did you put panes in? Snazzy.” He heaves it over the sill and shoves through the window, breaking glass and letting the oversized ice cube get caught on a ledge. “Giddy up boys!” He jumps after it, using Jake as an anchor.

“Get **bent** Pim!” Finn antagonizes her as Jake grabs them both by the midsection, dragging them up up up into the clouds. 

Ice King breaks the block and warms Betty with a crudely made campfire. Fern naps across from her after sprinkling a bit of snow over his legs. He needs to use as little energy as possible while there’s no dependable source of water. He was thankful for Simon’s help, but he wouldn’t exactly call him reliable. 

They’ll head to Slime Kingdom next, on a fetch quest for all three of the Crown Jewels. In his fatigue he doesn’t hear the full conversation. 

“Byyyy the wayyyy, is that a Botanic Shadow or something? Can I take a look?” Betty extends a hand.

“What? No. I gave you the enchiridion, don't touch.” Finn stands over Fern, feet on either side of his chest

“Mh, yeah, no touchin’m," he mumbles grabs the ankle to his left. “Who’s what? Ho—oOAHhm,” he yawns, “hold on.” He takes his hand back too quickly and rubs at his eyes. “Sorry. Okay, ‘m awake. What’re we doing?” 

“Getting the princess gems,” his double sits next to him, “Betty thinks they’ll help.” 

“Yes yes,” she squats and brings their faces close, “now, what _are_ you?” She tilts his chin in her hand and inspects his eyes. 

“I’m Fern.” She makes a small light appear like a beam from her forefinger and points it into his pupil. “And that hurts,” he winces.

“Strange. You’re magic, right?” 

“A curse, or something.” 

“The elements shouldn’t effect you.” 

“I’m still kind of human, I think.” 

“Strange, I reiterate. It would’ve been nice to have something that the elements couldn’t touch.” She adjusts her hat.

“He’s not a thing.” Finn says, crossing his arms over his knees. 

“He _is_ a thing. Just...” she whispers something into her hand and presses it to his forehead, “preoccupied. If you weren’t in this it would lose shape.” She looks in the air as if reading off a script.

“Betty, we don’t understand ominous wizbiz,” Finn says. 

“This is a conscious vessel that wouldn’t exist if it didn’t have an outside mind. The magic that keeps it together is mad dark mojo.” 

“Oh—kay,” Fern rubs at the spot she covered on his face, it itches a bit with magical aftershock. “I do change though. I started getting gummy in the CK.” 

“STARTED getting doesn’t mean you’d actually GET! You might just FORM. The brain of the body and the brain of yourself are two different things. If one loses the other you’ve got no bod, BUT! The CONDITION of one might not effect the other, either.” They look at her like she’s grown a second head. She just grins wide and blinks at them before sighing. “If you go elemental your mind might stay normie,” she explains, shoulders sagging.

“Okay... good to know.”

“But that means if something happens to _you_ the body’s conscious might come forward.” She gives him a concerned look. “So try not to pass out. I read that you’re prone to it in your head-meat archive.” She sharpens her gaze. 

“So–o,” he turns to Finn slowly, “we just need to do a tiara circuit and things’ll go back to normal?” 

He nods. 

There’s no time to plan, just go in and grab the rocks. If one of them gets element-ed, leave them behind. Someone always stays a bit behind, just in case. Last rule, be fast. They have to act _now_.

They take the hangers down. It smells like the inside of a rotten potato, feels like petroleum jelly, and it’s damn hard to walk. They cover themselves in goo, but Fern insists he’s already green. They spot a building pulsing with music, he stays outside. 

“Get me if there’s trouble.”

Finn makes the walk of shame.

LSP yells and hugs Fern when they make their way out of the roller rink. “Feeeeeeern! They were _so_ meeeeean to us!” He pats her back. Finn doesn’t say anything when asked where Jake is. “He got, like, slime slopped.” She moves back a bit and her eyes shoot straight to his nullified arm. “What. Did. You. Do?! Where’s your beautiful green gun?” 

“Karma.” He shakes his head, the others shake off their slime cover. “I’m glad you’re still you.” He gives her a gentle smile and turns to Finn. “He’ll be okay.”

“Maybe.” He wiggles the last bit of gunk from his shoe. “Lets go.” 

“Can I like, stay with you guys? I thought these were my people, but I guess I’m an eternal misunderstood heroine.” LSP sucks up to them, Fern can’t say no to her and he knew Finn couldn’t either, so he just extends his hand and lets her cling. 

He has a special relationship with LSP. She was the only one who gave him a chance at being a different person when he was brought into existence. He felt he had nowhere to stay, and after fleeing the scene at the hospital he later realized he’d driven to her little hollow in the woods. She’d taken him in and let him figure himself out for the next month. Eventually he found a home, secretly squatting in PB’s cabin, but he still visited a few times a week. He identified with her. She really was a kind of misunderstood heroine. She’d helped a lot of people but still got on their nerves just for being herself. She gave everyone equal opportunity, didn’t hold grudges and accepted you at face value. He genuinely enjoyed her company, let her gossip with him, he gardened for her and they had deep open talks. She was his first real friend as ‘Fern.’ 

He holds her close during the ascent. 

On the cloud she looks between them. “Soooooo... you’re around Finn without losing it. What’s that about?” She crowds him, he squirms and says nothing. “Oh. M. G. No way, no lumpin' way. You _RAT_. Something happened,” she whisper-yells and motions excitably. “You **told** him.” 

This was one of the things they talked about. She cornered him one day, and said, “I know what lovesick looks like, gimme the deets.” He told her why he couldn’t stay home. She didn’t interrupt or judge him for it.

“Now‘s not the time.” He rubs the back of his head. “Go talk to him, he’s all dinked up. Look, his face is glued to his phone pics.” He points at his double, sat on the edge of their cloud, drooped over his cell. “Please?” He puppy dog eyes her.

LSP puts her hands on her hips, and squints at him. “Uhuh. Okay. I’m not supposed to tattle, right?” He sucks air through his teeth and frowns. “Fun police.” She turns to real talk with Finn, giving Fern the stink eye. 

Simon ends up slapping the both of them. LSP laughs. 

He doesn’t know how all this garbage happened. He watches Finn get engulfed in a cold fire and not look twice when he pushes them aside. They follow him to the grasslands and Fern tries to grab him, to root in the ground and wait it out, but he gets thrown into LSP. 

A rosy lemon camel passes them, their heads follow it in unison as a pink Lemongrab waves from the cart it’s pulling along. “ **HELLO FRIENDS!** ” He screeches. She winks. Fern pushes LSP on, horrified. The caravan gets trampled. 

“This is the worst thing that could happen,” he frets. 

“It’s okaaay Fern. We’ll get your doppleganger-boyfriend back.” She pets his shoulder.

He groans. 

They follow the procession of flame turned friends, keeping a safe distance. Fern panics when he realizes what’s happening. Marcy is ‘play’ fighting a Phoebe who has real bloodlust. Finn starts to slice through people they’ve helped in the past, people they’re friends with. They walk it off but it makes him want to vomit. He rushes forward and uses vines to strap Finn’s arms to his sides, but he flares up, breaks out and climbs PB. Fern scrambles up after him. LSP latches onto his back.

“You _get_ that hottie!” She eggs him on. He rears back and climbs, keeping momentum. Finn leaves seared gum in his shadow, burning Fern’s knees a bit. When he reaches the top his double is raising his arms in preparation to slice into Bonnie’s face, growling. “Hey!” LSP yells and rushes in. “NO! You’re not like this, you can’t stab a person you love, Finn!” Marceline touches down next to her.

He shouts and smacks her out of the way. Marcy catches her and gets burnt in the process. Fern throws himself at his feet and tries to knock him over. Finn just turns and stomps on his stomach, kicking him off the she-obelisk. He’s caught by the girls, one for each foot. After being set down he forces the smoldering area to die off, and clutches himself in immense pain. 

“Stubborn ass.” He grits his teeth and kneels. Marceline rubs his back. “Marcy, I need you to take me to... take me to—“ 

Being in so much contact with Bonnibel and Marceline has started turning him. Skin crawls, head hurts, legs shake. 

LSP grabs him and floats, trying to salvage the situation. She yells a round of ‘oh no oh no’s to no effect. 

She drops him and panics, wailing and chattering to herself. “Oh glob oh Marcy it’s just you and me we gotta fix this if we don’t fix this my friends are gonna be WEIRD FOREVER **MARCY WE GOTTA DO SO** —“ she’s snapped out of her hyperventilating, anointed by a coat of charred marshmallow across her face. 

“Chill. Come campfire side, girl.” 

“Oh.” She licks at the corner of her mouth.

Oh. 

She tackles a wandering Fern, transformation now set in. He laughs to himself and asks what she is. “Your friend you sweet **freak**.” He wiggles in and out of her hold, alternating between knowing her and not. She doesn’t want to risk more exposure bringing change, but needs the help. “Fly us up, girlfriend,” she calls to Marceline. 

Finn is preoccupied, trying to pull his dagger out of Bonnibel's face, foot propped up on her cheek, growling, head thrown back. LSP allows herself to be dropped, breaking off a piece of Fern’s hat and scooping a bit of singed gum from PB. She doesn’t have time to find something that smells like wet dog, so she just goes for it.

“Come back!” she slaps one, "to us!" and another under his nose. 

In the end Fern wakes up around dusk. He doesn’t know when he fell sleep, but after looking around at his now green surroundings it dawns on him. He was rubbed into mint. He acted a fool. He feels violated and rolls onto his back, bellyaching. He notices that his stomach has healed – still leaving behind emotional pain, damage disappeared with the flames that made it. He punches the grass, glad it’s there but angry he couldn’t help. Or do much of anything. 

He turns his cheek, then his body to his right side, pulls his knees into himself and sulks. He stares straight ahead and counts to 100. 

He lays there for a long time. Pink feet enter his line of sight at 83. 

“Go away, Bonnie. Please.” 

“Are you Finn the Human?” A man’s voice.

“Nope.” He pops the P. 

“You look an awful lot like him.” 

“Sorry, who are you?” He turns over. If he didn’t know any better Fern’d say the man that met his gaze could be PB’s father. 

“Oh. I’m _no one_. Don’t mind me, okay? We’re a bit estranged. Anyway, I just wanted to shake the boy’s hand! But yours will do, too.” He outstretches an arm to help Fern up. 

He takes it. “Uh, thanks, but I don’t know where they are, sorry.” 

“Oh it’s quite alright! We’re just so very glad that everything’s back to normal.” He says the last few words with venom. Fern peaks an eyebrow at him.

“Right. Well, see you.”

“Give Bonnie a handshake for me!” The strange man waves as Fern disappears over the horizon. He brushes his palm off. 

He decides he’ll plant himself on top of the treehouse, verbally punching himself on his way back. Halfway through his hike he’s tackled by Lumpy Space Princess. 

“Fern! Glob, I’m so glad you’re okay.” She pets his face and makes weepy eyes. He puts an arm around her and they walk. 

“Me, too. About you, I mean. What happened? I know I candied out, but what about after? I’ve only got bits and pieces.” 

“Well I shoved a bit of your hat and Bonnie’s face in Finn’s nose and he was all ‘ahh I’m human again thank you LSP I love you’ and of course I rejected him for you,” she pats his back and he smiles, “but then we, like, got duped by Ice King’s crazy gf and had to lumpin’ figure out junk by ourselves. And guess _what_?” 

“What?” He amuses her.

“ **I**!! saved the day! Not Finn! **ME**!” She cackles and flies around him in a circle. 

“Wow! Now you’ve got your first Ooo rescue under your belt.” He golf claps for her. “How? Tell me everything.” 

He forgets about abusing himself, listening intently to his friend’s story. He loves her isms, and doesn’t fight her on the self congratulatory exaggerations. She wouldn’t be LSP without them.

They reach home in no time and she joins him on the treetop.

“What happened while you were gone?” She gets serious. 

“You know. Met my mom, lost my arm, kissed myself,” he lists on his fingers.

“Tell. Me.” She demands, “You ding-wad. You took him off the market so it’s the least you owe me.” She jabs a finger at him. “I _know_ you’re dying to tell me, your hair’s giving me some deets already.” It was, it betrayed Fern and turned salmon, sprouting blue. 

“You already — I — whatever. Okay.” He wipes a hand across his forehead. “I didn’t even really _do_ anything! Besides like, touch him a bunch when he was sea sick. But I don’t know, it was just stuff that makes us feel better. I wasn’t tryna be weird. But, then, ugh," he pulls the end of his shirt up to scratch at his stomach, it's a comfort ritual, "he _straddled_ me that night. Twice. Then he _kissed me_ and _apologized_ , but I didn’t say sorry so he _attacked me_! With his _face_.” He motions wildly, she’s enraptured. He lowers his voice and hisses, “he was way crazy aggro.” 

“No.” She grins.

“Uhuh.” Fern rests his head on his hand and laughs. “It – happened... _glob_ dude.” His hair turns into a deep red, LSP's eyes bug out of her head. “He asked me on a _date_ last night.” 

“NO!”

He turns and nods at her, equally incredulous. “I know.” 

“Do you feel better now?” She makes a ‘chaw’ sound and rolls her eyes. “You were practically chuckin on air every time you saw him. I lumpin’ told you he was making excuses to touch your bod you big green moron.”

“Y’shoulda talked me into being around him for more than a day a long time ago.” He barks a laugh. “I didn’t have to lift a finger.”

“No, you just had to lose an arm.” She says sweetly, Fern elbows her. LSP calls him lucky and punches his shoulder. 

“What’s happened with that _guy_ from the drive-in?” He returns the questioning, it’s only polite. She swoons through most of her news. They talk for an hour or so until Finn is suddenly very close to home. 

“Your bee eff is here, and ogling you.” She winks at him.

“Sh.” He knocks her with a shoulder. “He’s not gonna be anything if you open your trap about it.” 

“Yeah yeah, gob, I promise I won’t blab about the most exciting gossip since ever.” LSP mocks a scouts honor pose. “Because you’re my friend. I swear.” He keeps looking her in the eye until he’s sure she won’t. “Fern! I lumpin’ swear!” That’s good enough. He grins. “Gawl.”

They hug goodbye, she blows Finn an air kiss and yells about telling her parents that she’s an official hero. Fern watches her leave fondly. 

“I was wondering where you went.” Finn calls from the ground, scratching his arm. “I’m glad you’re okay. That spot I made, it’s — okay, right?” 

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it. Everything’s fine.” He puts on a crooked smile, his double relaxes visibly. “Come up.” He lets down a vine. “You did it again, mister Mertens. The world is safe.” He does an impression of a columnist. One’ll likely be banging their door down tomorrow.

“I didn’t do nothin’. I kicked you and burnt stuff. LSP did everything, really.” He drops to his left. “You two are friendly.”

“Accept a compliment.” Fern nudges him. “I lived with her for a month. She’s cool. Where’s Jake?” 

“You never told me that.” He wrings his hands. “Uh — he’s staying at Lady’s. Something weird happened to him.”

“He’s still slime?”

“No? He’s — blue? and huge? and doesn’t really seem to acknowledge it. I don’t know, I’m gonna let him deal with it.” He splays himself out. 

“Well, it’s probably just a magic thing.” Fern takes the opening to lay down next to him. His double’s metal arm curls around his shoulders and pulls him in. 

“I’m glad you’re alright. I feel mad gross about hurting you.” Fern is squeezed tightly for two beats. 

“Got my ego scuffed, that’s all.” He reaches his arm up to pull Finn’s hat down and pet his hair, he turns into the touch, looking at him intently. “Wh– what?” Fern gets a bit nervous. His double hums and keeps watching him. 

His hand stills, they stare at one another. “You still wanna do this? I can get awfully clingy,” Finn jokes. His Other relaxes his face and his eyes glint.

“You’re headstrong, not clingy,” he scoffs, “I remember being the hopeless romantic, too, you weren’t the only one who made that mess. Crawling into a hole n getting fifth degree burns. And that was for a kiss.” Fern holds his gaze. “I pined for like, a year. D’you really gotta to ask?” He slides his hand to Finn’s cheek. “Are _you_ rethinking?” 

“No! Gob no. I just —“ Finn shrugs, “feel bad about hurting you, and, you know, I can get obsessive and weird, and being back home reminded me that I’m not exactly, uh, romantically stable.” 

“You can’t really say that anymore. You haven’t dated anyone in years. You didn’t like, stalk HW or anything. Or push. And you were _nude_ , and she, like, flirted with you.”

“Okay but I stalked _you_ though,” Finn says in a rush. Fern furrows his brows. “I caught you at LSP’s one day and just — watched you! For _two hours_ , like a creep. And then I’d just hide and watch you work if you were there. If I was in the area, it was like, compulsory” 

“I’d hardly compare that to FP stuff,” he snorts. 

Finn narrows his eyes. “I jerked off when I knew you were on the roof.” 

“I _watched you_ touch yourself for, _again_ , a _year_.” 

“Okay but you were just stuck wherever I put you so that’s not—“ 

“I used it, and that was before, when I was just _you_. You touched yourself with part of me and, what, assume I don’t think about it? Shut up,” he rolls to his left and places both knees on each side of his double, “or I’ll just sit here, in your lap, all night.” 

Finn shuts up. 

“Stop being hard on yourself for once. Stop trying to apologize if you don’t mean it. I’m not gonna spend all night giving you embarrassing blackmail on me.” His hand sets down next to Finn’s head. “Stop. Please. I’m not gonna get discouraged by stuff I already know about ourself.” He uses the singular version to drive his point home. 

Finn slowly snakes arms around his neck and brings him down into a sweet kiss. “Okay,” kiss, “okay,” kiss, “you’re right.” Fern squeezes his thighs tighter around him. “You’re right.” He presses them together, anchors his weight and flips them easily. “I’ll stop dinkin this up.” He settles his hands into his Other’s hair and tugs. 

“Hang onto me,” Fern whispers. He sinks them through the treetop and into a mountain of... cloth. Finn’s confused. “I squirreled away some pillows in here a while ago. I sorta sleep on the roof when I wanna feel home again.” He switches an electric lantern on.

“You,” Finn’s hands squeeze his face, “idiot. You can just _live_ here. It’s **your** house. **You’re allowed to live at your house**.”

“I know. I just didn’t feel like I could.” Finn pulls away and watches him with a dumbfounded look. “I was going crazy around you. I’d catch myself _following_ you. Everywhere! You _must’ve_ noticed. I lived up your ass for two weeks before buggin’ out and running away.” 

“I’m really stupid.” Finn feels a renewed sense of validation and attacks him, shoving his shoulders back and wrapping a hand in his hair. He shoves a knee between green legs and grabs Fern's waist. He pulls his head back and waist up, arching him. His bushy shirt melts away. “I’m sorry.” He breathes hot over the skin in front of him, watching the hair leading down from his chest to under his shorts stand on end. “I’m really stupid.” He runs the hand in Fern’s hair down to meet his metal one and they cinch him. He plants his lips over his stomach. 

“Mah – maybe, but that’s okay.” Finn chuckles into his skin at the reused line. Fern lets himself be manhandled. It’s something he _really_ enjoys, he decides. Finn’s hands dig into him deeply. He kicks his thighs up to act as a seat and pulls his double’s right knee toward him, forcing a straddle. Pushed with momentum he falls forward, catching himself on his hands, bringing their faces close. 

It’s sort of like wrestling. 

Fern leans up, catches his mouth and runs his hand under the human’s shirt. Finn lifts and tosses it, along with the hat around his neck. His Other sprouts vines to hold his thighs down, wiggling himself lower to bite at his neck, his chest, his nipples, his stomach. He stops when his view is all shorts, and leans to nose at his double’s hard on. He wraps his arm around his hips and holds him down as he presses it to his cheek, straining cloth.

“Just — let me take them off,” his double pleads out above him. He shakes his head, and snakes his tongue into one of the pant legs. “Fh— dah–hm.” Finn grits his teeth and bites onto his shirt.

“No one’s here, it’s okay.” He’s not even moving much, just memorizing. He probes through briefs, outlining him, then slithers his tongue over and down and around. 

“Mfh.” He bites out a sob.

He repeats it 3 more times before letting Finn scramble out of the rest of his clothes and kneel over his legs. He dissolves his own, sits up, bows, and traces his heaviness with a _very_ stretched tongue. Finn leans back, waist balanced with ivy, hands looped around Fern’s neck, face maroon. He starts to wrap, and raises to press their foreheads together. He wants to see his double's face change as his cock is gradually covered. Two rungs, and his is mouth opens wide. Three and his neck arches. Four and his toes curl in and legs shake. Five and his arms slack. Six and he’s got no more room, but that’s alright because the boy in his lap has given up on supporting himself at all.

He corkscrews each ring and Finn straightens with a yell. Fern lays his pliable body back, crawls down, and covers his tongue with his mouth. He doesn’t stop his double from bucking, encouraging it with a hum that sends shocks up Finn’s spine. He reaches for a hand and tangles their fingers together. Experimentally, Fern adds suction and Finn’s gone – wriggling, jolting, panting. Moving any part of his mouth brings noises, he tucks them away in his mind in turn. They encourage confidence, and give him reassurance that maybe that idea isn't awful, that he's been responding positively, that he should do it. 

He shifts his double into his lap, lifting him so his legs hang over his shoulders, and bends in half as far as he can before stretching his tongue again. He wraps around himself and Finn, set for frotting, drooling his sap-like spit over them. He pumps his tongue up, spirals back down and jerks his hips. 

“NFffern— fuck!” Finn’s head snaps up. Fern screws each loop of his tongue, looking him in the eye. He does it again, and over and over. Squeezing and sliding and springing, looking for whatever gets the best reaction. More pressure on and underneath the head rewards him with sweet keening. He speeds up. 

Finn sobs and squirms, and fucks against him. The vines on his waist tighten to keep him in place, and he punches the floor, metal to cloth sounding out a muted ‘thump’. Fern wraps their cocks in his hand and keeps them pressed against each other as he bucks, more uncoordinated. There’s no silence, both making constant noise, Fern growls raggedly. He comes first, sputtering to a halt and letting his double’s thrusting ride him out. He bites his yell into a long whine. He’s almost finished and becoming hyper sensitive when Finn’s hips lift off the ground, arching into the air deeply, turning his face in a pillow and wailing. Fern slips himself out of his own hold and kneels down immediately, catching the orgasm in his mouth. 

Fern sucks, swallows and sucks again. He tries to not think about how it’s his own. When he looks up and wipes his chin Finn is red faced, panting, and watching him through glassy eyes, hair everywhere. He wants to memorize it. 

Finn beckons him with a nod and Fern reaches up to lay next to him, sandwiching their legs. Finn pets his hair in silence for a minute before talking. 

“That was...” He shakes his head, speechless. He inches forward and kisses his Other, short and sweet.

“I – I had a lot of time to think about doing things to you,” Fern says, disjointed and bashful. He entwines their fingers together. 

“I’m gonna feel inadequate now,” Finn snickers. Fern squeezes his hold on his hand. 

“Not even. I go crazy when you kiss me,” he grumbles out, quiet. 

“S’flattering.” Finn bumps their noses together. “The way you... gonna make my brain burst. S’that your — first uh – first time doing that?” It's inappropriate and he knows he shouldn't be asking but it's past his lips before it occurs to him that this isn't a good subject to bring up after doing _anything_. 

“Are you asking if I’ve been with anyone since the grass crawled off your arm?” Fern quirks an eyebrow. 

“Uh yeah, I guess I am. You don’t have t—“

“I didn’t want anyone else. I told you.”

“Yeah. You’re just — good at it.” Finn smiles, sheepish.

“Before, to me, was that yours?” 

“You uh, you’re the first anything, really.” Finn looks downward. Fern nudges their feet together.

“Then maybe both of us actually suck,” Fern kisses him, “and we don’t know better.” 

Finn laughs at that. He puts his metal arm over Fern’s middle and tilts his head to touch noses. “This is really comfortable. I was wondering where you’d sink down to up here.” 

“Magic door or something, responds to my skin. No one knows I’m here.” He clicks his tongue. “I can hear you sing in the shower.” 

Finn mocks shock and offense. He kisses Fern’s face and rubs circles into his back.

They fall asleep easily, and neither wakes in the night.

Simon is the kind of stand up guy who would make Fern a sweater with a sealed arm hole.


	4. VIGILANT// Reverie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to my ongoing effort to give  
> best boy more characterization  
> aka stream of conscious writing abt Fern during my smoke breaks  
> have a migraine so fixes will be made tomorrow
> 
> this chapter was sort of tricky  
> because theres no overarching plot going on rn  
> we waste too much time on episodes centered on  
> secondary characters  
> like wow just FUCK fern am i right?? AT team set him up for YEARS  
> but did nothing with him or his implications  
> im so glad we got to see TT's ex husbands instead lmao  
> 
> 
> In case there’s been some confusion with the ages  
> I updated the notes  
> the Mertens boys are turning 18 in this chapter  
> Finn Sword was made 2 years ago  
> also I'm using Max Degtyarev's illustration for the treehouse layout  
> the jail isnt canon afaik but i thought it'd make a good room for Fern
> 
> i was supposed to hike the appalachian trail this year  
> but instead im writing adventure time selfcest smut  
> jfc sorry i just think thats funny

They could rest for days, maybe weeks until a new job came. Fern was overjoyed. He was used to his quiet life by the lake, all the commotion was a bit much. He craved calm. He decided it was probably high time for him to move back home. Waking up in his nest and saying goodbye felt wrong. Walking away from the treehouse after their trip felt wrong. He was explicitly **told** to move back home, and was happy for an excuse to. He doesn’t have much to take back, he’ll just swing by the cabin, it’ll take less than 5 minutes. He didn’t collect much while living away from home — that’s what it always felt like, like one day he’d go back and everything would be normal again. 

He opens the rustic wooden door to three pink gum folk and their surprised expressions. 

“Uh.” His hand falls from the knob. “Sorry. I’m just - I just need to grab some stuff and I’ll... go.” 

They stare at him as he inches toward the kitchenette. He opens the far right cabinet and throws human clothes and nutrient sachets into his pack. 

“Please don’t tell her I was here.” He directs his attention to the older man. “You’re her uncle, Gumbald, right? I’m sorry I was so rude to you before.” He hugs his Sensitive Plant off the coffee table and to his chest.

“You know my name?” He straightens.

“Well, yeah. PB’s talked about you.” He gives the man a cursory nod. "And this _is_ your cabin, right? Two and two together... yeah."

“Hm. Well, I won’t tell. Do the same for us won’t you? We’ve been gone for _so_ long and we wouldn’t want to spring it on her!” He stands and claps a hand on Fern’s shoulder.

“Sure, um, if I forgot anything just put it on the patio. Uh — nice to meet you!” He all but runs out, slamming the door behind him with his foot. He whimpers and shakes his head to shoo a bug he can feel crawling in his hair.

He feels strange when he knocks on his own front door. Finn pokes his head out of the fourth story window.

“What’re you doing? Just come in, you weirdo. **It’s _your_ house, Fern**!” Finn gives him a blinding smile.

Well, if he didn’t need to knock then he’d just drop his pack off in his hideout and jump down into the bedroom from there. He grows a vine to hold his plant to his stomach, stretches his arm to ascend to the treetop, sinks through his secret door, tosses his bag down and walks through the far right wall. He lets himself phase through the floor, where there’s a gap in the wooden roof. 

Finn jumps, giving a small shout. “Jeez. Hi.” 

“You said it’s my house,” he offers, placing his plant on the windowsill. “I think I’ll put a ladder reaching to the roof, stretching up there is inconvenient.” He holds his chin and looks at the patchy ceiling. 

“Well, whatever you decide.” Finn wraps an arm around his shoulders and turns them to walk toward the second floor. “We’re having food without meat n eggs n other stuff you can’t eat tonight. We stocked up. It’s all totes vegan.” 

“Jake's okay with this?” They climb town the tree trunk, passing the living room. “He wasn’t my biggest fan for a while.” They step out into the kitchen.

“Yeah, he said you can do whatever in the roof, or we could turn the old jail into a bedroom.” Finn drops himself to the lounge. “I think he realizes that you’re still his brother.”

“When’s the last time you’ve been in the _jail_?” Fern splays himself out on the curved couch, placing his feet in Finn’s lap.

“Uhh.” He counts his fingers. “Sssssix years? We don’t use the attic or den either, really, now that I think about it.” 

“I can’t remember the last time I saw the inside of it. It’d be nice, as long as I can make a skylight.” 

“Anything you want. We’ll tear the cone-top off. And I guess you’d have your own ladder down from the grate, we’ll just put hinges on it. And move the bucket, so you can catch your own rainwater.” He taps the top of Fern’s right foot with his human hand. “See? Easy.” 

“I guess. Still feels weird to be here.” 

“Good or bad weird?” 

“Hmmm... nostalgia weird. I miss being myself when I’m here.” Fern tunnels his hand between the cushions, pulling out some dollars. “Hah.” 

“What!? I don’t remember putting that there, and I don’t hide dosh.” Finn’s eyes widen.

“I know, I had Neptr do it when I was in the sword, in case I got out and needed it.” He unfolds the bills. “Too bad couch cushions don’t earn interest, here.” He holds out the wad to Finn. “My rent.”

“You should keep it. Volunteering to grow food for LSP can’t pay much.” The green hand stays in the air, Finn puts a metal palm over it and forces it down. “I got everything you had, we’ve got heaps of treasure downstairs. I’m serious.” Fern slants his mouth and sticks his fist into his pocket. “Buy some clothes or something. I know you wear the real stuff sometimes.” Fern raises his eyebrows high and relents. 

“Okay. Gardening for LSP isn’t the only thing I do though. I’m on-call for Wild Berry, too, that pays well.” 

“So much you’ve never told me,” Finn complains and makes teary eyes at his Other. “That’s cold.”

“Man, we’ve got time. S’gonna be hard to not slip into old habits here.” Fern’s face falls.

“They’re your own, who cares? You’re not copying me. You’re just doing what you’ve always done.” Finn motions with his hand, waving it in a circle. 

“You mean what _you’ve_ always done.”

“Fern.” Finn gives him a tight lipped glare. "New house rule, you're yourself and no one else." 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

They have dinner that night and it feels uncannily normal.

Fern’s new room is renovated that week. Jake wants to get rid of the cuffs but he says he’ll use them for another purpose - like hanging houseplants or extra water. He’s lying. He was spooked by what Betty said, and knows what she was talking about. The body’s mind might come to the surface if he was incapacitated... the source of his violent thoughts, prominent? He couldn’t risk it. He’ll set up a password with Finn later. 

Fishing. He didn’t know _why_ he was fishing, since he couldn’t eat it, but Finn insisted.

“This is silly,” he mused, “I’m not gonna catch anything with this, here.” He hands over his pole.

“Uh, okay.” Finn watches him as he creeps into the shallow bank of the river. 

“Throw me a stick.” Fern waves toward himself. Finn breaks one off the dead tree he’s under and tosses it to his Other. “Thanks.” Fern morphs his bad arm around it. 

“You gonna pike ‘em?”

“Yup. Fern’s way!” He stretches his arms out for emphasis. “I gots good eyes, and the pole relies on chance.” 

“And your ego doesn’t like chance.” Finn sneers jokingly.

“Haha. When _you_ suck at everything, then you can talk.” He watches the water intently, not seeing the faces Finn is making at him. 

“You don’t suck at everything! And you know you don’t so stop being a wad.” Finn chucks the poles aside and lays down.

“But _Finn_ , you’re so _nice_ to me when I beat myself up.” Fern bobs his head right and left to his words. It was a kind of skit they did. 

“Do you need a squoze?”

Fern grumbles back and throws some rocks downstream to corral life toward himself. 

He skewers three silver catfish adolescents. 

“See? I don’t know what the hey you just did! But it worked and you caught dinner.” Fern throws the spear on shore and washes his hand off. “Now come here.”

“Hmmm...” he accesses his double, taking his time and making him antsy. “Okay.” He smiles and shakes his feet dry before sitting between Finn’s legs. 

Being surrounded by him makes Fern feel better. 

He crawled through the roof one night, during the first week of his stay, and patted Finn’s cheek til he stirred. He shot up once he realized that Fern was crying. He asked his double to, “hug me like you did on the beach,” and Finn liked being useful, so it became a ritual of sorts. 

Sweet P barrels past them just as they’re about to settle into a playful wrestling match. They catch onto him.

He binds the boy as he slows, calmed by Finn petting his face. He avoids talking to the child as much as possible. He’s working on keeping away from situations that make his mind mad.

They watch Sweet P defeat the Lich-Hand that night. In the morning they praise him, seated on a shoulder each in the sunrise.

A month into their ‘arrangement’ they raid a dungeon. It ‘totally isn’t a date’ but Fern doesn’t believe him. Finn had been scouting for a good one for a week. He waited until BMO and Jake were gone to spring it on him, sweeping Fern into the air and kissing his face all over when he agreed to go. 

“You say that, but I’ve gotta consciously try to not just, like, shadow you,” Fern mumbles as he tries different keys. He’s outwardly fretting about mirroring his double’s attacks.

“I’m serious, you’re not copying me.” Finn takes his turn, picking copper. Click-click. Wrong. “I might be copying you. Who knows.” He watches Fern’s face for changes. “Prismo didn’t.”

“What’re you talking about? You sound like Betty.” Fern shoots him an odd look.

Finn frowns. “I was baiting to see if Prismo told you about how he made us.” 

“Made us?”

"Please don't be mad, I couldn't not tell you anymore." Finn offers a thin gold key, eyes glued to the ground. “He doesn’t know which one is the original. So you should really stop beating yourself up about it.” He rubs a circle into Fern’s thigh. That key is wrong, too. “I might be copy pasted. He didn’t wanna talk to me about it, said we should settle it ourselves.” He waits for a response.

“So I...” Fern shifts closer, “might still be myself... not some alternate reality demon with your memories.” 

Finn gives a small nod. 

“So one of us was made two years ago.”

“He duplicated the real one, and mixed us up so even he wouldn’t know.”

Fern sits on what he was just told, ruminating. 

“Prismo said we could figure it out, but that it might drive one of us mad.” Finn tightens his hold on Fern’s leg. “I had to tell you, you’e so hard on yourself about it. I just didn’t know when the right time was, and you were so in your head the past few months. I didn’t wanna stress you out more.” 

“We’re both from the same dimension, same person, just...” Fern trails off. 

“Copied.” Finn finishes for him. “Every time you talked about it, man... I wanted to tell you, I really did," he shakes his head, "but I didn't know what he told you. If he told you.” 

“H— how would we know who’s which?”

“He said there’s a clue in our memories somewhere.” Finn finally looks his Other in the eye and is met with dry sadness. He thinks he imagines the faint yellow glow they give off. 

Fern nods slowly and absentmindedly hands him the winning key. 

The treasure is a jade heart. 

Fern doesn't say the word 'copy' again, or bring the situation up for a long time.

Finn doesn't know if it was the right thing to do.

Unknown creatures have been getting dangerously close to the Candy Kingdom. 

Princess Bubblegum called the boys to order one week ago, to be on lookout, to camp out for a few days in the thicket that surrounds the farthest point of the CK.

“We’ve been getting odd occurrences of something attempting to breach the border. The south wall, specifically. I want you to track and hunt whatever’s been donkin’ up my infrastructure. My pipes keep gettin' busted. Find out why if you can,” were her orders. 

Finn vanishes early in the morning, just before they’re set to leave for camp. He leaves a note for his Other. 

Fern takes it at face value. He packs, puts on the disguise he uses for shopping and heads off to their meeting point. 

Finn doesn’t recognize him at first – thinking he’s a stranger creeping – waving and running up to him. He’s a tall freckled boy, red hair tucked into a braid, long hunting cape with hiking boots and a walking staff. He doesn’t have a right arm. Oh.

“Wow, you spooked me.” Finn reaches out to touch him. “You’re so,” he drags his palm down Fern’s cheek, “pretty,” he says under his breath. 

Fern snorts. “I use this when I’m here, people will crowd me otherwise. Candy people're really stupid, think I'm you, don't notice I'm green. You like it?” He lifts his arms and spins. “HW helped.” 

“Huntress Wizard?” Finn leads him off. 

“I did some work for her a while ago, de-poluting her place." He swings his braid in his palm. "We talked about people comparing us, so she made me some clothes and had me puzzle myself around.” 

“Well it's very her-ish I guess. What about the stick?” He nods his head to it.

“She imbued it, s’got some woodsy wiz essence. Helps me grow stuff.” Fern swings it out from behind his back. “It can also...” he strokes it in a pattern Finn doesn’t catch and a string appears, “be a diddley bow.” Fern taps a vine to it, it makes a low twangy note. “She said I played well on the flute and wanted to give me something I could work with one hand and, you know, no lungs.” 

They reach the forest edge and pause. 

“We’re through here, I want you to close your peepers though.”

“What? Why?”

“C’mon, I’ll make sure you don’t walk inta any junk.” Finn holds his hand. “It’s a surprise.” 

“Okay fine, you dope.” Fern smiles and amuses him, closing his eyes and letting himself be lead by his hand. "This is supposed to be a job, not a date, you know."

They stop in about a minute. 

“Alright. Open ‘em,” Finn whispers. 

His vision adjusts and his hand flies up to his mouth. 

“We’ve been — doing this — for two months and I — I wanted to, I don’t know, do something.” Finn shrugs and plays with the hem of his shirt. 

There’s fireflies trapped in angled jars, casting a bright, cold glow over the ground and surrounding trees, trees which are decorated with bio-luminescent bulbs. 

“I brought food, too.” 

“So... this is what you were doing today?” Fern walks into the small clearing and turns around in place, taking it in.

“Yeah I uh, I had Simon make jars for them, so they’ll fly off when they melt but for now, you know, we can have dinner by buglight?” He squats and pulls out containers of veg curry from his bag. 

“You’re so...” Fern shakes his head. Finn grins. He falls to his knees and grabs his double by the shirt, and kisses him, hard. 

They have dinner, chattering away about what Fern does for work. Finn watches him with a soft expression as he excitedly fills the air with his stories. The light fades gradually, leaving them in almost complete darkness to set up camp. Fern strings a thick vine from tree to tree and sets the tarp up to make an A frame tent. 

“Thanks for entertaining my romanticism.” Finn tugs on the guy line. 

“I just can’t believe you want to _date_ me, but it’s sweet.” 

Fern sets up sensitive border ivies, and they fall asleep to the sight of stars. 

Something triggers his security measure early in the morning, before the sun is up. There’s movement about 50 feet away from them. Fern nudges Finn awake and clamps his hand over his mouth, signaling with his eyes. His double nods and quietly draws his sword. 

They sneak and track the creature, watching from the shadows as it claws against the gate. It’s circling and sniffing at the bottom of a wall, tucking in to dig underneath it. They toss rocks and herd it from both sides, forcing it to run. They make themselves sparse so it’ll head back to its home instead of running in fear to a mystery location. 

They almost lose it at a fork in the trail, but follow broken branches to a dug out cave in the side of a cliff. Fern motions for Finn to stay behind a bit so he can set up a trap outside of the mouth of the grotto.

They do catch it, but Fern gets injured in the process. 

Finn sweeps the cave. He finds a surveillance cam and calls Bonnibel in urgency. She takes charge of the situation, injecting the beast with a sedative and thanking them. She has Fern taken back to the castle hospital wing. His chest has a large slash in it, but there isn’t much serious damage. On PB’s order an arborist takes a look at him and gives him an epidermal transplant from a local species. He’s given orders to not stress it, and is sent home the next day.

Finn stays close when allowed, taking down camp when his Other is in surgery, and calling Jake to let him know what’s going on. He was supposed to host a beach party this weekend but he cancels. 

When Fern is released he says it was stupid of him, that he’ll be fine and to not take presumptuous measures, but Finn dismisses him and leads him home for a nap. 

When he’s slept off the pain medication Finn fills him in on the source of the threat that gave him his injury. Potential war was on the horizon. 

A week later the plant surgeon comes for a house call to check Fern over and snip his stitches off. He gives the OK for physical labor.

Finn insists on tagging along to LSP's. He probably would’ve anyway even if Fern hadn't said yes, he chuckles at that thought. He can’t believe his double had been watching him.

“Can you come up for a sec?” Fern sticks his head through the roof, beckoning his double who’s currently cleaning his weapons collection. Finn almost drops a box of throwing stars on his feet. Fern withdraws and panics, gathering the right words while he’s momentarily hidden.

“What’s up?” Finn pushes branches aside and crawls into the ceiling nook. 

“Listen, I told LSP a long time ago why I couldn’t live here.” Fern rubs the back of his head and braces himself. “I’m sorry, she’s probably gonna crack soon and say something to you.” 

“What?” Finn is confused. “Why would that be an issue?” 

“Because — wouldn’t you be, I don’t know, mad?” 

“No. It was your biz.” Finn’s face blanks. “You trust her, I might not, but it was your stuff to tell.” 

And that was that. LSP knew, and although Finn thought she was the most loose lipped person in Ooo she remained the only person to. 

Their birthday party was small, only a few people were invited. Typical games, typical event. Nontypical gifts. He feels a wave of possessiveness cover him when HW reveals her present to Finn. 

He has to root himself and talk his mind into calm. He’s gotten good at that. 

Finn asked Jake to stay at Lady’s, ‘for us birthday boys, we're gonna stay up all night and get super danked’ so when Fern slams him into his bedroom wall and gropes him in aggression there’s no one to witness the embarrassing whine he makes. He thinks he sees his Other’s eyes flicker a bright yellow for a moment, before he’s yanked out of the thought by an angry kiss.

“HW was flirting with you, you know that, right?” Fern falls to his knees so fast that he should be ashamed, but he just rips his double’s clothes to his ankles and growls.

“What?” It was his turn to be inappropriate, Finn guesses. “S’that bother you? She wa-ahm, was doing it t’you, too,” Finn hisses through his teeth. He’s immediately deep throated. 

“Yeah—“ Fern swallows on him, “whatever you say.” He provokes the reactions, pumping and swirling his tongue rapidly. 

“AhHmm! I d— aH, st-stop. Nahh— ah not – not yet.” Finn tries to talk through his gulps and gasps.

Fern tears his mouth away, frozen, as if he’d done something wrong, heated mood dissolving. 

“Clothes. Ceiling.” Finn puts his arms out, panting. Fern undresses him and carries him up to his nest. He lays Finn out over the many pillows and sheets, flushed body almost matching the maroon quilt under them. He kneels and rests his chin on his chest, short blond hairs tickle his neck, hands pet him. “Uff. Hold on.” Finn breathes deep, trying to regain composure. Fern’s face is still curious and passive when he manages to still, opening his eyes. “Want you to.” Finn squeezes his fingers around Fern’s wrist. 

“Now?” His eyebrows shoot up.

Finn grabs the back of Fern’s neck with his metal hand and brings his face up to seal their mouths together. He tilts them to the right and reverses their positions in one swift motion, settling his knees around his Other’s hips. His clothes dissolve.

“Yeah. Now. When else?” He lifts Fern’s hand and taps a green finger to his own mouth. He gets the hint and pushes his middle one between Finn’s lips. ”Gift each other our virginities,” he says around it.

“That sounded more romantic in your head, huh?” Fern nuzzles their noses, Finn snorts. 

Finn had seen porn before, maybe a year ago, before Fern existed. There seemed to be a decent amount of it left over from The Before. It was one of the things he’d secretly reaped from the ruins. He read the titles out loud as hums of ‘fmmm’ and ‘mmm’ – he was confused and peeled a black cover up, opening the magazine. He immediately slammed it back shut. He couldn’t believe it was real, that people documented sex. Marceline – as she, the old half human, was the only one he could think (or trust) to ask about it – gave him A Talk. She said it was common. He thought the information was useless, as he’d assumed he wouldn’t end up with another human, but was curious. She explained the labeling, the M/M and F/M that decorated the covers as sexual categorizing. He didn’t really get it. She got a bit frustrated, and explained through her teeth that if a woman was more into other women she would probably prefer to see something labeled F/F. Oh. It was vicarious and recreational. He didn’t understand but accepted it, taking the two magazines home. He waited for a chance, when no one was awake or around, to really look at them. He got it then.

He assumes Fern had seen too, perpetually over his shoulder, maybe watching him nervously flip through the moment by moment snapshots on the pages. Or, since he roomed with LSP, he’d heard _quite_ enough.

The finger turns upside down and strokes along the roof of his mouth. His feet jolt in response.

Fern tries to keep his cool. He takes his hand back and inserts his pointer finger in his own mouth, his spit clings like honey. Finn pushes a hand to his Other’s chest, pinning him. Gold hair falls and frames the garden Fern’s has become. 

“I love your hair.” Finn buries his face next to Fern’s neck, kissing and smelling the flowers near his ear. He squirms and turns his face away. Finn takes his Other’s chin in his flesh hand and swings it back, then grabs his wrist, hovering in the air between their stomachs. He guides it lower, keeping their eyes locked. Fern’s hair shifts between pink and fluorescent red. “It tells me a lot,” he says, laughing airily. He gives a small nod to continue. 

Fern had in fact seen the smut Finn had tucked away in between the many furs that pillow his bed, and had experimented on himself a handful of times once he had a body that could really feel. If he knows what he likes, then he knows what his double does, too. At least, that’s his reasoning. 

He strokes once, twice, circles, then pushes – meeting hot resistance. Finn tenses and squeezes his eyes shut, his brows furrow. Fern nudges deeper, sliding easily to his knuckle after the first few centimeters. He waits for a sign to move. His double takes measured breaths, pressing their faces together. The hand on his shoulder relaxes from a death grip to a bruising clutch and slides to cup his neck, nails leaving crescent indents. A blue eye opens, then a green one joins it and a kiss is put to his cheek. He swirls tentatively, and gets a ‘mhh’ in response. 

He retracts an inch, then two, then pushes back in. Finn catches his mouth. He repeats the action over and over without complaint. Finn gasps out of the kiss when there’s a figure eight made deep inside of him. He nods when what he thinks is a second finger is lined up in question and returns to licking into his Other’s mouth. 

Fern had manipulated his hand into something more pointed, and routed moisture to accumulate in a thick, slick layer over it. He retracts his remaining finger into his morphed hand and narrows it to the width of two, reentering and settling, letting his double acclimate. He stretches just a bit larger, and undulates. Finn jolts straight and his eyes go wide, he looks down, back up, waits a beat, and crashes their lips together. Their teeth click, hard, drawing blood and chlorophyll, mixing and dancing over and under tongues. Fern grows vines to wrap around his double’s lower back. The noises he’s making happen are sweet. He wants to keep brushing their tongues together but also wants to hear the yells and broken words he’s swallowing. He ends up yelping their faces apart because there’s something cold between his legs. 

“Not yet, 'm too wound up.” 

“Sah— sorry.” 

Fern is emboldened, his hand curls upward and rubs harshly against the flesh there on the way out. Finn’s knees shake. His double leans up, grasping the morphed arm with his right, then left hand. Fern lets him manipulate it, lying back and watching his double fuck himself with part of him. He’s not even being touched sexually, but he’s still moaning. The friction begins to drag a bit when Finn’s eyes open, half-lidded, he stops and tugs it out of himself. Fern grows the used area off and separates his fingers, shifting his hand back into the norm. 

“Spit on my hand.”

He does. Finn’s voice is very authoritative.

Steel fingers clutch in the hair on his nape and he’s pulled up into a sit. Their noses bump when Finn lifts a bit to straddle higher. Over him. _Oh christ._ Their eye contact is electric. His double lathers the sap in his hand onto his cock, he grits his teeth when warmth and pressure and tightness start to come over him inch by inch as Finn sits. 

When they’re melded as deep as possible they look at each other like the world is new. Finn rocks once, only a bit, it could’ve been a shiver. Fern snaps his head back and his hair wraps around Finn’s wrists. His double uses the leverage to pull his face back up and splays his fingers over his jaw. He moves again, lifting on his knees, not even an inch. It doesn’t really hurt, not like Finn assumed it would. Any pain is immediately masked with the sheer intimacy of what's happening. He keeps moving. A bit more up. Fern has to tense his legs so he doesn’t lurch. He bends his knees, letting Finn lean on them as he sinks back down. 

Fern blinks finally, lets a tense noise out and tightens his hold on his double’s waist. Finn slides his hands down to Fern's neck. He watches as large roses sprout from his Other’s hair. 

“Fuck,” Finn breathes out, “I’m gonna move now.” 

Fern gulps. 

Finn comes down quicker, and picks up a rhythm. Fern makes inhuman mewling noises and bucks into him when he can’t hold it back any longer. It’s so tight, and hot. And — and — _I’m fucking myself_. Finn forces him to look him in the eye and leans gradually through thrusts until his back hits the ground, he pulls Fern by the hair cuffs on his wrists, forcing him to kneel. He kicks into his right thigh as a playful ‘come on.’

Provoked, Fern supports himself with roots and vines and swings both of Finn’s legs over his right shoulder. He thickens himself a bit more and draws out fully, then plunges back in. He curves his cock upwards, aiming to hit the sensitive spot he knew he had himself. He rocks, brushing against it, Finn becomes a deeply arched shadow in the yellow glow the lantern casts on the wall. It was incredible. Fern gathers pace, trying to graze that spot every time he pushes back in. Not wanting to leave his double out he shapes his hand into what he’s feeling, licks his palm, wraps his erection in it and moves it to match his thrusts.

Finn silently yells. He’s overwhelmed. Nerves on fire. He reaches down and takes over the task of moving the fist. Lightning builds in his toes. Their gaze is charged. 

“Fern. Fah— Fern. Fern. Nn, damnnaA—ah, Fern.” Finn repeats his name like a prayer into the air around them. 

Fern tilts his head and rests his cheek on his double’s thigh, kept there by one of the many scattered ivies threaded around them. He bites a moan into it. He could feel his orgasm building, he pinches his fingers at the base of his cock to hold it off. He looks between their birthmarks – a teardrop for each of them – nestled in the skin that connects their right thighs to their bodies. An awed sense of affection and possessiveness runs him over. 

“Finn I— I’ve alw–“ he chokes on an untimely confession. He can’t hold it back anymore, their hips come together, hard. The noise it makes is paradise. Finn pushes back against him, wrapping his legs around his waist. His vision blurs, his perception falls off-kilter.

Finn’s body tenses, Fern is pulled forward by his hair forcefully to eat a moan out of his mouth. They sob into each other, eating the cries. Finn is coming over Fern’s hand. Fern pulsates, seated deep. 

He transforms his hand back and drags a thumb up the underside of him, massaging. 

Arms loop around him, Finn’s chest heaves beneath him as he gulps down deep breaths. Fern shakes the effected skin off his hand, shedding it, and brings his palm up to pet his double’s cheek. Finn blinks rapidly a few times and seals their chests together, holding him close, panting hot over his face. 

It only takes two more wrestling matches for the stakes to change to ‘loser tops.’

His Other is taken from him at Marcy’s concert. One second he was _right_ next to him, the next he was gone. The vampire carried him high into the air for a better vantage point, but he saw nothing. 

Fern was knocked out as soon as the commotion settled. 

He woke later, surrounded by stone. He yelled but it was useless, the more he worked himself up the sooner he wouldn’t be able to move. There was no light, no anything. 

He slept for what felt like seconds, but could have been hours with how he ached, before being woken up by a woman’s voice. 

“Oh dear, you don’t look too good!” She pets his head. He yanks himself away, grows his sword and growls at her. “Oh, no, no. Please don’t be upset. We need you for leverage, we might be in danger.” She waves her hands in front of herself.

“I know you — you were there, at the cabin. What do you mean? Leverage? Why? What danger?” Fern shoots his questions rapid fire.

“You’ll be joining us for breakfast tomorrow morning, we’ll fill you in then.” She sets down a bottle of water, a lamp, “it’s UV,” and leaves. 

He watches the door for a minute before pulling his pant legs up to flick water over his shins, he switches the light on. When he glances back up he’s lost the outline of the exit in the wall of monotonous brick. 

He sighs and concentrates. He tells his body not to lose it and to help him get home, but it doesn't answer. 

When Finn sleeps that night he’s plagued with strange dreams. Stone, granite maybe. It surrounds him and closes in as if to crush his body. No light, nothing but stacked rock. Screaming, not his own. It howls for help.

The meal Fern’s an _honoured_ guest at is tense. The gum family eat, watching him for any changes in demeanor after he’d refused to say what PB was planning. He wouldn’t, not until he knew what they wanted. 

“Well, that was marvelous, thank you Lolly, dear.” The older man tucks his napkin from his neck to his lap. “Now, our friend, I see you’re still protesting. Not for naught, as we wouldn’t let you walk out of here anyhow.” 

“Because we need you! You’re important. In the inner circle. We can strike a deal if we have you.” The younger finishes for him. 

“Yes,” Gumbald seethes and glares, “thank you, Chicle.” He softens his eyes and looks at Fern. “You would make a good game piece.” He claps his hands together. “Lolly, the shot please.” 

The woman opens a small box to reveal a syringe loaded with clear liquid. 

“We need to keep you out of it for a small while.” 

Fern yanks his hand and rattles the restraint it’s bound in. He’s too weak to grow any defenses. They’d given him measured amounts of energy. 

Lolly pets his hair and soothes him as the man angles the needle to puncture an arm vein. 

“Be calm. I don’t want to miss, you’re precious material.” The man's voice has turned into a low, menacing growl.

Fern stills and inwardly panics. He feels a cold rush from his arm to his head as he’s injected, able to track where the substance is. His vision blurs, and blackens as he loses consciousness. 

He wakes again, and thrashes around, unrestrained but unable to move, he’s locked in a tank. There’s mystery liquid in bottles strewn about the desk he’s closest to. He hears someone laughing but before he can squint to make out a face he’s pulled back under. 

Finn’s dream is seaward. He’s suspended in ocean, there’s no surface and no bottom. What he thinks is Bubblegum’s face floats around him, features murky. The screaming is still there. His veins are freezing. 

On the third day Fern doesn’t even wake up. He’s put under properly for a noninvasive surgery. Only his subconscious registers anything about it, projecting images of scalpels into his nightmares. 

"Your family isn't even looking for you, son," Gumbald says as he gives Fern his daily spray down. He can't remember how long it's been since the concert. He has no way to count days except for this minute long ritual that he isn't even awake for some of the time. 

"You don't know that," he grumbles.

"Oh, I do. Would you like to see?" He shuts off the sprayer and tosses it to the ground before rolling Fern's wheelchair to his study. He clicks on the monitors. They project images of the Candy Kingdom, inside of the castle, the Fire, Ice and Slime Kingdom borders, PB's cabin, and their home. "Your brother has been moping."

Fern watches his double lay unmoving on the floor of the jail, face buried in his coat. He tears his eyes away. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Oh, well. You see, I was going to fetch the boy since he's been taking his sweet time to find you. I need you to tell him where you are, and what we need." Gumbald claps his hands together.

Fern shakes his restraints and huffs.

"Come now," he moves the microphone closer to Fern's face, "don't you want to go home?"

"And be released on the lie that you want peace? I'd rather stay, thanks." He turns his head away as far as he can.

"My boy, I _do_ want peace! You _must_ have some empathy for us. We were in quite the similar situation!" Gumbald turns the chair, forcing Fern to look at him. "We just don't want to be put in a metaphorical prison again. Lolly's heart can't take much more of this."

Fern had grown to have a soft spot for the woman during his stay. She was so like Minerva. He eyes the screen again, Finn hasn't moved. "Fine."

"Oh wonderful! I'll go have your script drawn up, you stay here." The man snickers at his own joke. Fern rolls his eyes.

He watches with a pained feeling in his chest as his double stares ahead and punches the floor.

"What do you think sounds more powerful? 'We will have peace or you topple.' or 'If you do not sign this your kingdom will be left in ruin.' I just can't decide!"

Fern ignores him. The man enters his line of sight again and comes close to hold the lines he has to say in front of his face. Fern nods. Gumbald flips the mic switch.

"Help. Behind the Rock Candy Mountains." He watches as Finn jolts upright and swings his head toward the camera. He mouths something, they're not able to hear him, but Fern knows it was his name.

Gumbald gives him an appreciative look. "You can have him if you get a peace treaty for Gumbaldia, boy. See you soon." He switches off the mic, and calls for the tank.

Parchment in hand, Finn sprints away from a still talking Bubblegum and out of the castle. He bumps into a few candy people and doesn't stop to apologize. He nearly trips a few times in his rush, and does take a spill leaping up the ziggurat's stairs, breaking skin on his knees. He doesn't have time to think about whether or not it's a trap.

A pink man greets him at the door, he lunges but stops midair.

“Don’t — or you can’t have your sibling back.” 

He complies angrily. Nails biting into his palm as he follows the man inside. 

“Fine! I have a sword and if you do anything shifty I’ll slice all y’all up and take him anyway,” he threatens, “but I’m a pacifist. **For now.** I hope you’ve got some sense in your sugar brain.” 

“Now, now. We can be diplomatic about this.” 

Finn is lead into a sitting room. An older round woman wheels his Other out, poised in a tank of gel, unconscious. 

“Well then, lets get this done.” The man sits and crosses his legs. "Take a seat."

“I’ll stand. What’d you do to him?” He nods toward Fern.

“Oh nothing, nothing. We didn’t want him to stress too much. He gets violent, did you know he gets so violent? He's like a different person.”

“What do you want?” Finn snaps.

“An agreement, like I said. We want a cease of action. I have evidence to suggest that my lovely niece is actively building up her forces.” Gumbald holds out photos to prove his point. 

“You were _attacking_ her _kingdom_.” Finn juts his arms out in astonishment. 

“We were trying to get intel discreetly.” He waves a hand in the air to dismiss him. “And send a message that we’re not helpless. Anyway. You can have him back if you brought us our guarantee of a conflict free future.” 

Finn holds it out.

"You're saving two kingdoms, my boy." Gumbald uncaps a pen with his teeth and signs with a flourish. He encloses a note with the scroll. 

Finn doesn’t say anything, he’s too furious. He stomps out of the room and calls PB, updating her and getting confirmation for their pick up.

Lolly comforts him while he waits for The Morrow. 

“War is such a bother, we’re so sorry dear. It hurt me greatly to do anything to the boy.” 

Finn spares her a glance and says nothing. 

The scroll is handed back to him in a tied off bag. 

“Wouldn’t want anything to happen to it at such heights it will be traveling on!” is the reason he’s given. 

When they land back on Candy Kingdom territory he swings Fern’s unconscious body into a bridal hold and hands off the deal to Peppermint Butler. 

“Well that’s a relief.” Bubblegum nods approvingly. 

Finn grunts back. 

There’s a puff of pink. 

War’s still on.

**[here's some spoilers for next chapter](https://imgur.com/EqGzm40) **


	5. AMEND//Patrol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> work has been hectic, so im sorry that  
> this is a week or so later than usual  
> some notes for this chapter  
> 1\. if you thought that last nsfw scene was flowery and long  
> ive got a surprise for you
> 
> 2\. PB would probably speak pennna (pennsilfaanisch deitsche) instead  
> of high german, since Ooo is in america (and we're penna, so its easier lol)
> 
> 3\. "christ" is a lumpy space expletive. It's on level with fuck. Thank you, Wolfhard!!! There's an image he did of a descendant of LSP saying it, so now I can use it and not break theological canon :p
> 
> 4\. like usual if there's any last minute fixes needed ill be checking them out  
> tomorrow
> 
> 5\. you guys leave such good comments and i wanted to see them but  
> i couldnt log onto ao3 or id get distracted!!! so ill be replying to them tomorrow, too!
> 
> 6\. STAY SAFE please
> 
> the chapter after this will be the last written one  
> please read The Beginning of The End (Fern's time echo is p 33)  
> and season 11! For Minerva but also for Finn admitting  
> his guilt and feelings about Fern as a person
> 
> the chapter AFTR that one will be comics and stuff  
> also a redone Everything Stays! I just wrote it and I'll be mixing it this weekend.  
> So it'll be available to listen to soon.

Finn presses his warm palm to Fern’s bedroom door, he sighs and taps his knuckles to it once, twice, then listens. 

Nothing but birds chirping. Their house has been so quiet that the man made parts shifting with the humidity seemed loud to him now. 

He refused to take any jobs while his Other was missing. He had no time to, between laying in his coat to mope, and pacing slowly in their living room feeling sorry for himself. He couldn’t say no to his nephew, though. That was the only notable thing he did, really, and it took Jake from him. He wasn’t worried, he knew his brother could fend for himself just fine. Still, the silence did unnerve him.

He cracks the door and peers in. It was just as he left it the day before. Sun vent open, blanket on the floor where he propped himself against the bed. Fern was still, he heard no bells in the night. Finn took them from his Other’s coat and tied them to his wrist. He jingled them in the air but they made no noise, he made a wish and wrapped them around the limp arm anyway. There was a book next to the bed he’d been reading out loud for the past few nights, he remembered (from where, he didn’t know) that people in comas can still hear and wanted to hang onto that idea for dear life. He didn’t know if it was a coma, though. He didn’t know what was wrong, period. 

The princess wanted to take a look at Fern when they landed on The Morrow, but Finn swung his body away from her hands. He knew she was ‘better’ but still had a nagging feeling that she’d do... something. And he wasn’t ready to put Fern into the care of another gum person again so soon. She said she would have the arborist from before take a look at him, but he just wanted to go home. He regrets that now, though. He was getting desperate. The silence was maddening. The peaceful look on Fern’s face was stating to agitate him. 

He opens the door fully and leaves it open as he pads across the dirt floor. He takes his time to carefully avoid the seedlings’ round peaks scattered about. He planted them (or tried to, at least) while Fern was gone. He didn’t know what they were. He ransacked the room the night after the concert – tired from the day’s searching – for any clues he could find, mindlessly tossing the seed packet to the ground as if useless, spilling the contents. He felt bad and searched them out afterwards, thumbing out small homes in the dirt for the pebbles to grow, planting them until sunrise. By the time he was done he’d been awake for forty odd hours. There was no order to them, but he didn’t work with order. 

  
  


Past the minefield, Finn kneels bedside and spritzes Fern’s stomach. He rests his hand over the spot and feels for signs that it’s been absorbed. He pulls one of Fern’s eyelids open and makes sure there’s no murkiness. There’s not a lot of other ways to tell if he’s alive, unless he starts screaming again.

Fern didn’t wake up so much as he flirted with consciousness, trapped in his own headspace, moving and speaking rarely but not as himself. His doubled up ego states blurred at their edges and enmeshed. He shouted the third night after he’d been taken home, like a siren that could shatter glass. Finn rushed in, and Fern, in his muddy mental state, gave him their password. Intrude. He shouted it over and over, eyes closed, half aware. Finn shackled his wrist in the cuffs, enchanted as a favor by the other plantlike person months ago, and tried to ignore the alien snarls that were thrown at him. He hid in his room, head under a pillow. He didn’t notice the color of the bells, or the shadow hanging inside of the sun chimney, watching.

He hasn’t moved since. Finn thought he might wake the next day, but no such luck. That was a week ago.

“I hope you come back soon, man.” He sinks back down on his haunches and cracks the book open. He reads until it’s dark.

Finn calls PB the next day, he convinces her to send over a plant pathologist, reasoning that Fern’s not candy, so he needs specialized attention.

  
  


She sighs and patches in Wild Berry. The fruit princess yells for a guard to fetch Fern’s ‘regular’ GP, immediately concerned with her gardener. Finn wonders how close Fern’s gotten to people they both called friends. He had a doctor? that he had appointments with? As a work benefit. Doing work that he didn’t really know about. He just sort of assumed life... paused... for his Other until the trip. He didn’t know why he was so surprised to hear about him from other people. 

Before hanging up Bonnibel tells him that they have to come see her after Fern gets better. It’s An Order. 

The house call takes not even a minute. 

“He has mint rust.” The little berry man complains about wasting time as he turns on his heel and strides away. 

Finn is given instruction to change his watering routine, a vial of fungicide and a distribution schedule, and a rule to keep his room dry. 

“How did you not notice? He’s yellowing at all of his joints!” The doctor yells at him on his way out. Finn escorts him, ducking his head in shame.

“I’m colorblind! I’m sorry! I can’t tell when it’s that subtle.” He shakes his head. “So it wasn’t on purpose? It’s not like, a magical sleeping sickness? He just got like this from being _damp_?”

“As far as I’m concerned, yes. Have him call me when he’s ready.” He gives Finn a discriminatory look-over. “And find someone who can shear off his affected parts.” The front door slams closed. Finn tilts his head and sighs. 

He says sorry to his Other’s quiet body before their nightly pages, spending extra time massaging his calves. He sticks a note to the bottle as a reminder.

_water feet only_

He has LSP come over around lunchtime the next day, she swats his arm. 

“I woulda came if you TOLD ME **SOONER**! I didn’t even know he was **home**! Why didn’t you tell me?” He doesn’t have an answer to that, she makes a frustrated noise. “I lumpin’ _know_ about this stuff, Finn!” She shakes her fist at him and heaves Fern into a sit. “If you’re living with him then you have to know about him, too. Now gimme what I need and GIT!” 

He yes ma’am’s her, and gets out of the way after pointing out Fern’s scissors and the small spray bottle full of his new medicine. Finn listens from the other side of the door as she speaks to his Other in a tone he’s never heard come out of her mouth. 

“He’s not very smart, is he? Useless idiot. If you don’t get better I’ll throw him so far into Lumpy Space he won’t know what hit him.” She must have read something in Fern’s vacant expression that he couldn’t, because she pipes up again with, “guh FINE, whatever. I’ll play nice. For you.” Finn remembers a time when her heaviest allegiances lied with him, and feels — something — not good.

He leaves her to task and turns to clean out their fridge. Being called useless spurs him on. He ends up throwing out his weight in eggs.

He checks up on them later. LSP has left, and Fern’s hair is brushed back into a braid.

Finn lets his body slump down against the door after closing it. 

“I haven’t been treating you like a person,” he realizes out loud. “You’ve got relationships outside of me, and I’m _surprised_ when I hear about them. That’s so messed.” He crawls to the bed after sulking for a minute. “My dumb lizard brain saw your connections with people the same as mine.” He rests his head on the mattress. “I know you’re your own person, it’s just like my mind didn’t register that you’d — talk to other people? I’m sorry.” Finn grabs his hand and squeezes it. He hopes he’ll feel a muscle twitch, but Fern’s body remains slack. 

He sighs and flips open the book laying next to Fern’s face. LSP left him a note inside, he catches it mid air as it falls.

 _If you don’t call me when he wakes up I will tear your head off._ ‘Tear’ has been underlined a few times. 

He sleeps in Fern’s room that night, holding his hand. 

Fern clenches his toes but it’s the only movement he can muster that day. Finn doesn’t come to him until late. He doesn’t read, he just collapses on the bed. His breath smells like cleaner. He’s gotten into Jake’s date wine and spent all day as part of the living room floor. 

  
  


“M’so g’damn lonely.” Their childhood lisp is back, it’s barely noticeable but Fern knew what to listen for. Finn holds the back of his head, tucks it under his chin and kisses into his hair. He’d said not to get too close if he was incapacitated while setting up the safe word, in case something happened, but Finn was apparently too sloshed to care. He pulls his face back and watches small buds that won’t bloom appear. He holds Fern’s jaw in his hands. “You — can you hear me? Fern. You have no idea how bad I need you. D’you know how bad? So bad. Y’re like, like the only one. Please wake up.” Finn muffles the last word into a kiss that he presses to the forehead in front of him. He moves down and covers the not-breathing mouth with his own. “Please. I don’t like being abandoned, ‘m sensitive to it.” He pushes his thumb into the hinge of Fern’s jaw, opening his lips further to kiss deeper. He brushes their tongues together. Nothing happens and his eyes prick. 

Fern listens and feels. He wishes he could respond to the needy touch. He’s kissed slower than usual. “Fern.” His lip is sucked on. “Fern.” His braid is tugged, Finn holds it up to bury his nose into as he palms himself through his clothes. “Fern, please,” he whines. His hand is brought around his body so Finn can push his lips into his palm. 

He listens to his double drunkenly jerk himself off, feels his breath as it hits faster and faster in hot puffs over his hand. Finn cries about it afterwards. Fern can’t really make out many words from the jumbled panicked mess he strings out, he gets the intent though. He’s sorry and he misses him and christ, does Finn need him. 

He stumbles out of bed in the afternoon, apologizing profusely and giving Fern extra leg massages, administering his medicine afterwards. He apologizes to the seedlings he stepped on, too, and curses at himself as he itches his way to the bathroom. 

It starts raining in the evening, and Finn lumbers in to close the skylight and set up the dehumidifier Wild Berry Princess sent over. He spends the rest of the day in Fern’s room after beckoning BMO to him. Fern can move his legs (only a bit) but it goes unnoticed, like usual. Finn adds some emphasis to his voice and reads out with enthusiasm. It reverberates into Fern’s head, low and sweet.

“No one can tell what goes on in between the person you were and the person you become. No one can chart that blue and lonely section of hell. There are no maps of the change. You just come out the other side...” he reads an extra chapter to make up the loss from last night. 

It calms both Mertens boys. 

And so it goes, Finn administers Fern’s medicine in the morning, comes in to water him around lunch, spends the rest of the day trying to do basic maintenance on their house, (the sound the floorboards made under his feet and the walls rattling with the wind really freaked him out) maybe painted, (because it’s a good idea to be a well rounded boy) and came in after dinner (usually always junk) to read. 

Then one morning Fern is woken up by Finn wigging out on the phone. 

“Marceline! You TRANCH!” He throws his cell onto the bed and (carefully) stomps off grumbling to himself, scratching up a storm. He doesn’t notice that his Other has been staring wide-eyed at him. 

Fern needs to move his legs with his hand, but he successfully swings them out of bed. He stretches, and feeling rushes back into his limbs. The medicine he was given worked wonderfully, nutrient sapping and energy stunting subsided. He could move, at least. Out of all the junk Gumbald could have done to him, he got incapacitated by something in the air. He rips his mind away from his vague, dark, dank stay and drags himself off to look for the short colorblind idiot to deliver LSP’s kidney slap. Mostly though, Fern just wants to surprise him.

He creeps out of his room, the weakness in his knees in combination with the rope bridge swaying makes his short trip hard. He concentrates and gathers himself up again, pushing the door open. A small buzz hits his ears, he follows it to the bathroom. Confused, he pulls the fur curtain back. 

Finn thinks he hears bells and his heart flips. He looks up, sees Fern in the mirror and jumps, shaving off a strip of hair on the right side of his head. Fern cringes. His double doesn’t care though. He tosses the still live razor to the floor and rushes toward him. 

“You’re awake.” Finn mumbles into his neck, gripping tight. Fern pets his back in a large circle and peaks his eyebrows, pulling back to look him in the eye.

“ _What_ are you doing?” His voice and smile are so warm, it makes Finn want to burst out into a happy giggle. 

“ **AH**! right!” Fern is unceremoniously pushed as his double leaps back a step. “I got lice from Marceline.”

Fern stares before huffing and choking into a wild laugh. “I don’t have blood, it’s alright, you dumbhole. C’mere.” He lifts Finn back into their hug, wobbling a bit on his feet. “Thanks for taking care of me,” he whispers.

Finn nods slowly. 

When he’s put back down Fern has an excited look on his face. 

“Since you don’t care anyway, can I cut it?” He bounces on his heels. “I can fix the lice! Please don’t shave it all off.” His grin is wide. “Can I? Please?”

Finn gets whiplash from the subject change, again, and picks the shaver up, holding it out in permission. Fern hardly gets excited like this, and (even if he did care about his hair) he wasn’t going to discourage it. His Other directs him to sit backwards on the toilet. He switches the length of the clipper and pulls a wide strip of hair at the top and back of his head into a tight knot, keeping it tied with a small broken off vine. 

“I’ve always wanted to see it like this.” He starts to shave off large sections at the sides of his head, adjusting the spot that was already mowed down. Finn starts to wonder why he was asked to not shear it all off, feeling pretty bare, when Fern takes pieces from the bun and layers it. They don’t talk while he does this, because the only words they have are too heavy to say. Fern creates a bushel of leaves in his hand and brushes all over, dusting Finn’s shoulders. He returns to clean the edges and shuts off the razor, looking smug and accomplished. “Math. You look so cool.” 

“Well, if you’re happy with yourself.” He stands and shakes his hair out before looking in a mirror. It does look cool, he’d seen Marcy with a similar cut before. Fern brushes his hair to the left from over Finn’s shoulder. He never had bangs before, it feels strange. 

“This is gonna be really gross," Fern warns, nodding his double to hang his head over the bath. 

“S’fine, just make the itching stop,” Finn complains, bending himself over and waiting. 

Fern positions himself and accumulates moistu— no, no fancy words, he’s just getting ready to drool all over Finn’s head. He opens his lips. 

It’s thick and tacky and cold, and it makes Finn want to take a bath. “Huuuuhhh,” he shudders.

“Thold yoo,” Fern speaks around his tongue, “bu’ ith’ll chufficade th’n.” 

Finn wrinkles his nose and waits it out. It could be a torture practice. When he feels the flow stop Fern reaches out to **rub it in** and he wants to wiggle away. He squirms. It smells sort of like sap, and feels like it, too. It didn’t taste like much or feel this gross when they kissed, or... when he held it or had on himself, but he’d never encountered it in this amount. 

“Y’gotta let’em die, so I hope you like having wet hair. You need to wear a shower cap or something now. All day.” Finn turns his head to stare through Fern’s bashful smile. “What!? You weren’t gonna do anything but shave your head! They wouldn’t’ve even died if you did that.” He crosses his arm over himself and humphs. “It was either my spit or olive oil, and I didn’t want you to leave the house...” Finn chuckles and leans back up, cracking his back and stretching. 

“I missed you.” 

“I could tell, you – uh – broke the rule a bit.” Finn frowns. 

“I was afraid you could hear me — do that.” He flicks his fingernails together and stares at the floor. “I’m sorry, you know. Next to you. That’s so...” 

“You think I’d mind?” 

“Well. It’s not like I could ask or anything.” 

Fern shakes his head. “Thanks for the retroactive consideration but I didn’t. I was just worried that my body would slice through you.” Fern washes his hand, shakes it dry and follows his double into the kitchen. “Where’s Jake?” 

“He’ll be back, he had something to take care of. It might take a while, he’s been gone fo—“

“I don’t want any idea of how long I was out," Fern snaps, "please." His voice softens. "I’m sorry, I just can’t process it right now.” He slumps on the couch. 

“Okay,” Finn puts his hands up, “understandable. He probably won’t be home tomorrow.” Finn searches through the kitchen cupboard. “Will a shopping bag work?” His Other shrugs, he ties one off over his hairline and feels silly. “I should probably call LSP. She’ll go ape on me if I don’t.” He starts to turn toward the door to Fern’s room.

“I got it.” He pulls the cellphone out of his pocket, Finn asks the question with his eyes. “You threw it at me, so I pocketed it. It’s fair.” He turns the dial to find LSP’s name. “You wanna watch me mess with her?” 

Finn perks up. “Heck yeah.” He settles in next to Fern on the couch, hand on his chest, head on his shoulder. 

Fern dials, it beeps three times before she picks up. “What, Finn? You need me to see for your blind butt again?” 

Fern clears his throat. “Is it normal for him to turn into stuff in his sleep?” He sounds just like Finn. 

“What!?”

“He’s turning into a tree.” 

“WHAT!?” He covers Finn’s mouth with his bad arm so she doesn’t hear his sputtering. 

“It’s fine, right? Haha it’s like dream charades. Cool, never mind LSP, sorry for bothering you!” Fern holds the phone away from his face as she yells nonsense at him. Finn is turning red. 

“YOU DUMB LUMPIN ASS WAD NO HE’S NOT SUPPO—“ he hangs up and hands the phone over, Finn pats his knee and barks a laugh. 

“She’s gonna be here any second,” Fern says as he turns into the touch. Finn snickers and stretches his metal arm tighter around Fern’s chest. The bag crinkles on his shoulder. “Your new fashion statement is gonna confuse the biscuits outta her.” 

“She confuses me all the time, so whatever.” Finn brushes a stray hair back into Fern’s bangs. “I feel like you’ve gotten prettier while you were out, that’s so not fair.” 

“Hmm, it’s only natchy. You were gussying me up the whole time.” He smiles. Finn wants to drink it. He doesn’t want to ruin the mood, but he has something important to ask.

“LSP said she knew stuff about you, like she’d know what to do if you were sick like that, before.”

“Yeah? I heard.” Fern cocks his head to the side.

“And that I should know about it, too.”

“Not your fault, I just didn’t wanna, I dunno, burden yo—“

“I want you to, burden me.” Finn tucks his hand under Fern’s chin. “I know literally nothing about how you work except that you can only eat _vegan_ and don’t breathe.” He’s pleading. “Blame’s on me, I should’ve asked. I didn’t even know that you’ve got a doctor!”

“You know some stuff about me that no one else does,” Fern tries to lighten the mood, wearing high brows and a playful smile. 

“Fern.” Finn’s face remains stern. “I’m serious. Playing for keeps.” 

Fern’s smile slowly fades as they watch each other. He wants to laugh about the state of his double’s hair but can only focus on his mouth. It’s the most that’s ever been said about their feelings. Finn starts to get insecure because he’s just _staring_ , like what he said was too much or too weird or maybe he misunderstood what they were doing, or or or — a string snaps. Fern rushes forward and kisses abruptly, sliding his hand under Finn’s shirt to pet his lower back. His mouth opens immediately. It’s eager and urgent and they’re both moving at different times but it doesn’t matter. 

“I missed you, too,” Fern says into their mouths. 

Finn pulls until his back hits the couch, trapping his Other’s hand under him. Fern starts to smile into the kiss, Finn feels it and starts to laugh. They rest forehead to forehead and giggle at each other. 

“Well, that was hot until you started laughing like freaks.” Fern’s head snaps up, Finn’s snaps back, they give LSP the same surprised look and it squicks her out. “Gross. Stop doing the thing, it’s creepy.” They snort at the same time and she waves her arms. “Stop!” 

They have her over for lunch and dinner, she continues to make bag jokes at Finn until running out at number four. When she finds out _why_ he has a bag tied off over his head she makes an ugly face and lets out a low ‘eeeeeee’ sound. In the evening she fusses over Fern, brushing his hair back into a new braid and petting his face. It makes Finn’s stomach twist a bit. He says goodbye and leaves to shower so he doesn’t have to watch.

His friend doesn't keep him long though, she leaves almost immediately after Finn steps into the bathroom. When Fern says she can stay LSP looks at him like he's stupid and says, "you two have time to make up for." His hair flushes pink and she laughs. 

He watches Finn blow dry his hair, and it’s so cute and he looks so hot it makes his chest ache. He strides up behind his double and fluffs it with his fingers, earning a smile in the mirror. He dips to his ear to bite at it and whisper, “you look good.” Finn turns in place and wraps his arms around Fern’s neck.

“Is LSP gone?” 

“Yeah.” Fern paws at Finn’s right thigh, he gets the hint and wraps his legs around his Other’s hips, letting himself be lifted off the ground and taken back to what used to be the jail. Fern turns in place and falls back on the nest of pillows, hugging his double to his chest. “Now that I can move—“

“Yeah,” Finn kisses and bites at his lips, so glad they’re moving against his own. “Gob, yeah, yes.” He shifts down, Fern’s clothes dissolve. He licks a wet stripe over a nipple, making a whine buzz around them.

Fern aches. He’s _been_ thinking of a way to ask, but just goes for the blunt. “Please.” He shifts higher and grinds his ass against his double. 

Finn breathes out sharply. “Yeah.” He lifts his shirt off. Fern gets impatient and pulls the rest of his clothes down with ivy. “Okay, okay,” he laughs and kicks them off. 

Fern’s legs fold around Finn’s hips and he tugs forward. Finn grabs a fistful of hair at the back of Fern’s head and pulls. Their neediness shows fully, they push until their skin meets at countless intersections. It’s a desperate, fast sort of clumsy, but they’re getting better at not bumping into each other. They can kiss with their eyes closed easily now. Finn’s fingers dip between vestigial ribs that house vestigial lungs. 

There’s a lot about Fern that’s vestigial. If it has no purpose for a plant it goes unused. If it’s something that would aide survival and happiness it remains functioning, in anyway possible. Bones turned malleable, skin now stem, magic and human and mentha. It’s a strange mix, but The Emissary has it all puzzled out. As long as It can live on, It didn’t really care, because that body was really Its, part-of-Finn was only this form’s foundation. Anything to keep the deal, an eternity, as promised.

It’s their second time, first reversed, and Finn feels off balance because he doesn’t know any of that. He doesn’t know a lot about how this lamiaceae body works. He doesn’t even know if Its muscles are magic. He leans up to kiss again, and hooks his forefinger into the side of Fern’s mouth, when he comes away for air Fern closes his lips around it and sucks. Finn groans and tries to take his hand back, but can’t. 

“Here,” Fern says around it, he reaches down and guttates through his palm after groping his double. 

“Wh— _ah_?” Finn’s voice pitches high when he feels the chilly wetness. He remembers that that’s a thing his Other can do and unclenches. His eyes roll back as he’s gripped and massaged. Fern whispers ‘please’ into his ear. 

The finger leaves his mouth and ghosts down, further than Fern wants it. He grabs Finn’s arm. “You don’t have to.” 

“I d – I just – don’t know what you need.” The palm hovers. Fern squeezes his wrist and brings his double’s hand back up to his face to nuzzle into. His hair wraps around it loosely. Finn grabs his left hip, hard, and lifts him to rest on his thighs. “Just — tell me if you want – need – something.” 

It’s the first time Finn’s ever felt like this. A wave of emotion, all saved up during the past month crashes back onto him. Anger, need, obsession, loss, isolation, insecurity. He envisions strings reaching out from Fern to other people. Relationships that have changed from those of his own. He wonders how Theirs would look. He wishes it to be more important than anything else, and he’s not going to feel guilty for it. 

“I just want _you_ , Fern. I can’t do this if it’s not just you.” 

Fern’s eyes refocus, thrown from the air of anticipation. “I thought that’s what we were doing,” he says it so innocently. 

Finn’s face softens. “Good, that’s — that’s good.” 

“We’re not doing this every time, stop being weird. **I want you**.” Fern tightens his legs around Finn’s hips and tugs on his neck to kiss aggressively. Finn is validated. Again. He doesn’t know why he gets so insecure beforehand. He moans as Fern ruts harshly against him.

“Sorry, nerves,” Finn chuckles awkwardly.

“Really?” Fern gets an amused look on his face. 

“You’re just — ah, you know.” He smiles unevenly.

“Awake?” His Other rubs a circle into his nape. “We don’t have to.”

“Yeah, awake. Nah, I’m just — a little emotional.” He starts to rub himself over and against, not to penetrate, just to feel. It makes Fern groan high. “I’m _so_ glad you’re awake.” 

Fern can tell that he’s stalling. He motions for Finn to sit up a bit, takes his legs back, slips them under where his double is hovering and turns over on his knees. 

“Fern, _hell_.” Finn’s eyebrows knit together tightly over his eyes. “You’ve got no clue how bad I had it.” He lowers to kiss up Fern’s spine, his hands grab wide into thighs, to mimic what they were doing on That Night in the boat. A thin bit of air still separates them. 

“I think I do.” Fern hooks an ankle over Finn‘s and grabs for a hand, his double lets him take his flesh arm and wrap it around his stomach. They press together, back to chest. The heaviness jutting into his thigh is so hot and hard, it makes his hair flush deep red. “When you grabbed me I thought I was going to attack you.” 

“I wish you would’ve, I was about to jump overboard to keep myself from doing this.” Finn starts to lift his metal hand to spit on, but Fern beats him to it, sprouting a vine to wrap and weep. Finn grits his teeth and bites into the shoulder in front of him, hissing into his Other’s skin. 

“I thought – maybe, but that felt crazy — you — you don’t have to go slow. My body’s different.” He ties their thighs together with vines.

"No." Finn turns his face into Fern’s neck. “I’m going to anyway.” He kisses the skin there. Finn doesn’t do anything slow, but this deserves it. Fern deserves it. He rubs himself over and circles lightly before pushing. It isn’t warm, it’s slick and it feels like **so much** , even this shallow. “Did – did you change yourself — here?” 

Fern nods tentatively. 

“Don’t.” Finn tightens the arm looped around Fern’s middle. “Please. I want to feel you. You-you.” He pushes his face further into red hair. “Just let me.” 

Fern relaxes, and the feeling in Finn’s nerves shrinks away from shockingly overwhelming. He lets out a low purr and pushes deeper. 

“I thought you could tell. I wanted you _so_ bad. You looked so —“ he pauses to even his breathing, “so beautiful. I got to feel your back. Hell, Fern. I wanted to touch your back for months.” He stills for a moment. “Watching you sit on the floor shirtless killed me.” He peppers kisses over Fern’s shoulder blades. “Being able to touch you finally is insane.” All Fern can do is grind his teeth and nod gratefully, or in agreement, or both.

Finn starts to pull his hips back and Fern lets his upper body fall, he pushes his face into the bed to muffle an embarrassingly loud moan. Being able to let go and not focus on keeping form for twenty different things was amazing. “Now add that — to a year.” He makes a small sweet noise when they’re pressed as close as possible. 

“Tell me,” Finn’s mouth is about to stop working, “tell me about it.” He angles himself when he pulls back, trying to replicate what Fern did during their first time. 

“Your voice got deeper.” Fern bites into the sheets to whine. “And — and when you touched yourself you sounded _so_ good.” Finn starts to thrust a bit faster, keeping a slow rhythm. 

“You like my voice?” 

Fern nods harshly. 

Finn hits the spot he’d been aiming for and Fern arcs, pushing himself back to meet their bodies together.

“You got so much better at fighting.” It leaves his mouth quickly. “And not just physically,” he has to pause so he doesn’t accidentally whine into the next word, “the way you got when you reasoned with— haa. Ynnn– you, you sounded so hot - you got so mature. I swooned, probably. I w - ah – it was so–“ it’s hard to admit the depth of his feelings, because that meant analyzing them and remembering where they started, “so much.” 

“I think,” Finn runs his fingers through his hair, “this all comes back to how I sound.” He tucks his chin into the crook of his Other’s neck. “Are you using me for my voice, Fern?” It’s low, and it rumbles over his skin, making his body hair stand on end.

“Mn, I love it.” Now they’re even, they’ve both said ‘love’ in the same testing context. Fern gives up on pushing back, on his own effort. He just lays there and lets the pressure in his stomach build. Finn lifts a knee and places his right foot flat on the bed. It angles him enough that Fern is squirming and biting into his own hand to keep from making too much noise. 

“There?” 

“Mmh.” 

“Stop that, wanna hear you.” He wrangles Fern’s hand away and they loosely touch fingertips.

Their hips meet harder. 

  
  


“Yours is different. I like it. I like it so much.” He leans upright and grabs Fern's hips to pull his body back when he pushes forward. “The ways we’re the same though, make me feel closer to you — is that — hfff — is that weird?” 

Fern shakes his head no. He moans out a new noise and Finn drills a hole in his brain to house it. 

“I’m s—so glad, I felt so bad about liking it.” Fern’s eyes are closing and opening, hard. He’s mock-panting, and whining and grasping at the sheets white knuckled. And it makes Finn feel so accomplished. “We got so different. It’s like I blinked and there’s all this stuff I don’t know about you. And —” he slides his metal hand around, not touching him there – maddening – to circle a finger where he knows Fern's birthmark is, “this helps.” He puts more weight on his foot, and moves his hand a little more to the left. 

“Please,” his voice is strained and strangled, “I just got boring.” Finn’s hand finally closes around him. 

“Y’mean your job doesn’t have the chance to get you killed.” He moves his fist along with his hips and Fern’s mind short circuits. “S’good, let mmf — me – let me be the stupid one.” 

“Nnyy – yeah. Okay. Don’t get killed though. HarderFinnplease.” Fern tilts his hips higher, and now he can see _everything_. Finn watches, mesmerized as Fern's body takes his cock in easily.

His jaw would drop if it wasn’t tensed so hard that his teeth should be breaking. Stunned, he wonders if that’s what he looked like. If he looked this ... intense. He’s been keeping a similar pace to their words, and feels he has to change position to do what’s asked - begged. He pushes Fern down by his lower back and settles his knees around green thighs. His hands cinch the waist they naturally come to land on. He hits their bodies together harder, and harder and harder still. 

And then he can’t control himself, and it’s because he can’t control himself that the body under him is suddenly very loud and squirming and when Fern crosses his legs (because it doesn't count as changing himself) Finn thinks he might die. 

He moans and yells and spasms and pushes deeper even though he can’t, and he's coming. The feeling makes his Other’s features go wide, and seeing that mouth make a large 'o' around a silent shout keeps him seated longer. Finn doesn’t want to slow down though, so he flips Fern onto his back and falls to his elbows. He replaces himself with his fingers and takes Fern in his mouth. It’s his first time doing this since the night they kissed. When he tried too hard to reciprocate – tried too hard to measure up to Fern’s mind blowing touch – tried too hard because he finished too fast and wanted to show how bad he wanted them touching like this. He also did it because he was hung up on the picture on the page that occupied his mind way too often. He fantasized so many times about it, watching Fern move and bend. Watching his hands while he worked, imagining them in his hair while he... 

Finding the shallow area that rewarded him with the sweetest keening was so much easier with his fingers, and he circles and circles and it’s a constant pressure in Fern's feet and stomach and head, and Finn has to concentrate on not gagging when he arcs, because he couldn’t do what Fern did, but he felt on top of the world anyway with him wrapped around his fingers and filling the room with louder and louder cries. 

“Soon, iah– I’m, hf — now.” Fern is trying to make words long and clear enough to warn him. 

Finn bows low and eases off the pressure in his fingertips. He can’t help noticing the pulsing on his tongue tastes just faintly like amber. 

  


Their assignment for the immediate future is scouting the border of Gumbaldia. It’s getting cold, winter is sneaking up on them. They have to patrol the edge of the fledgling kingdom for six hours a day. Gumbaldia, protected by the Rock Candy Mountains is framed by the Candy Kingdom to the southwest, Ice Kingdom to the east, and the ocean to the north. It was quite the route. Bubblegum puts them on opposite ends, walking toward one another, they’ll cross paths once a day. 

They’re about to leave when something occurs to him. He puts an arm in front of Fern and ushers him to sit back down. 

“Bonnie? If you knew that your uncle was the threat, why didn’t you tell me that Fern might’ve been with him?” He lays the bait.

“What?” She looks panicked for a split second. 

“When I came to you and asked if you knew anything why didn’t you tell me that he might’ve been there?” Finn sits back down and folds his hands in his lap. He tries to look as innocent as possible. Fern shoots him a worried glance. 

“Oh, I just didn’t know where Gumbald was is all.” Bubblegum waves a had downward in the air. 

“But Lolly said you were spying on them.” Fern’s voice trembles. 

She sits for a moment before putting her face in her hands and sighing. 

“I didn’t want to do this today,” she mumbles to herself and plasters on a new, composed face as she looks back up. “I know what’s going on with you two.” 

Fern panics inwardly until Finn pipes up without hesitation. 

“What does our relationship have to do with anything?” His arms unconsciously cross over his chest.

Fern is overwhelmed with affection. 

Bubblegum’s hands clench at the hem of her blouse. 

“I don’t think it’s healthy.” 

  
  


It frustrates Finn beyond reason when she says that he thought he loved her, but he was mistaken about that, too. 

“You just can’t not stick your nose in people’s lives, can you? Why do you have to be so enmeshed! It isn’t about you! It was never about you. You were my boss — and I didn’t have a teacher, so, duh! It was childish!” He swings his arms out to his sides. “And not real! And that’s what humans do! They fantasize about someone _safe_ , someone who will **never** reciprocate, because we need time in the oven or we’ll hurt ourselves. 

“So _why_ can’t you just **let** me **have** this without involving yourself?!” He’s yelling now, and there’s a fear in her eyes, but not of him, for him, maybe. “Every time... what, are you threatened when my attention isn’t on you? I cannot **FATHOM** why you would ever need to **KNOW** about my **LOVE LIFE**! Why do you _care_ if he,” he swings one arm to Fern, “ **fucks me**?!” He brings in both hands to point like daggers at himself. Fern is extremely uncomfortable and roots his eyes and feet to the ground. 

“Finn, I just don’t think it’s good for you.” She says it’s slow like he’s a child. 

He pauses for a moment, and opens his mouth. But Fern interrupts him. 

“There’s no one our age who thinks the same as us. Even fundamentally, they’re so far from humanity. Their — bodies also don’t... match. It seems sort of inevitable that we’d end up like this. Doesn’t it? but you probably found out because of your _unhealthy_ surveillance addiction. Healthy.” He smiles sadly at the ground. “What about you and Marcy? Would you call that healthy?”

Finn is suddenly very proud and fights the urge to smile.

“You’ve been codependent for almost a thousand years. What gives you the right?” He’s so calm. “I was put in a prison and got Stockholmish, but the sword broke and I was still in —“ Fern gets very quiet, “I still wanted this. He didn’t know what happened. He didn’t know I was real for the longest time. He wasn’t aware of it. So why’s it unhealthy? Because we’re the same person? That’s not it, because we’re not, not anymore. Codependency? I moved away in the first month, and didn’t let him close to me. Because **I** thought I was _sick_ , I did this little talk,” he gestures his hand toward the air between them, “for you already. In my head. 

“So that leaves us with two options,” he holds up his fingers, “either one: you’re unreasonably overprotective and won’t let him date anyone seriously because it comes in competition with his feelings for you, and even if it’s one-sided you have to be at the top, or two: it’s because of what I am. And if it’s because of what I am, then you need to explain how you can... do this, when you’ve got a centuries long dance going on with Marceline. Is it because he’s not afraid of me? Are you angry? Because you’re strong, Bonnie, but too strong to allow yourself to say yes to a demon? Is that it? or maybe it’s both.” He was striking a nerve, Finn could tell, by the way her lips curled at the corners of her mouth and the hands on her shirt hardened while Fern spoke. 

This sort of thing wasn’t in Finn’s playbook. He could gather up some inspiring word salad to blurt before or after a fight, or to stop a fight, but nothing this thought out. He’s impressed, it’s like listening to a more eloquent version of himself. 

“Ha. *Aai, ich muss draa schnittling, de iwwelguckich Faare. It’s not any of that.” She takes a measured look at Fern before turning to Finn with a scowl. “He’s not a person that you can be with, not really. He’s two beings forced into the same vessel. And one day that’s gonna come around to bite you, and given current events I might not be there to help.” She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “I want you to be happy, really happy, but you keep choosing...” her voice tightens up, “prospects that don’t have a path you can walk in the first place.” 

“I think you’re wrong. I think you’re wrong and that’s why you’re still alone.” Finn puts up a hand when she moves to protest. “It’s not your business. I don’t care if you think it is.” He gets up exaggeratedly, slapping his knees and slamming his feet down to spring up. “Come on,” he holds his hand out, Fern takes it too slowly, and doesn’t look at him. Finn is enraged. “Wait outside for a second okay?” 

Fern’s eyes are tired and empty and sad. He gives up nodding halfway and parks himself against a wall outside of the castle lab. Finn mouthes ‘sorry’ to him before closing the door with scary force and whirling around to stomp up to PB. 

“He was just starting to get happy, what is _wrong_ with you? He was so upset for so long! You know how long it took for me to get him to laugh? A MONTH!” His shoulders stiffen and he sticks a finger at her chest. 

“He can’t _be_ happy, Finn.” She sounds exasperated. 

“Yes he can! You’re so smart Bonnie, come on.” He’s pleading with her. “Why are you _so_ blind and unempathetic and – and just **mean**. I don’t _get it_. You knew he was me, before _anyone_ else knew, before _I_ knew, so what’s the deal? Why are you being so cruel to someone you know? Because if you knew _that_ then you know how much it must hurt him to hear you say those things. And before you say it, he does get hurt. He’s cried on me. I’ve held him through panic attacks.”

“He might, deep down remember feeling emotions, but his body – the thing that can control him if it wants to? can’t process that sort of thing. So if he says he feels something it’s just a memory, a phantom emotion.” 

“He does, I know he does. He can feel everything.” 

“Then his two ego states are so entangled that he and that thing are one. What if his attachment to you is just the deal, Finn?” 

“He was like that before.”

“And that’s captive complex that was made worse because his captor was himself. It’s _not_ healthy, and my interpersonal relationships, romantic or not, are irrelevant to that. You’re an adult, you can do whatever you want, but I’ll be there to collect taxes at the end of the year and see how much this has hurt you. And, I think, I’m not ready for that. You’re like my baby brother, sweet and blindingly optimistic, but naïve.” 

“You’re unbelievable and I think you never really got your oven time over with. For the record, I’m _fine_ with the grass sword being part of him, so stop making a problem out of nothing.” They stand in silence, staring at each other for a moment like it’s a challenge before Finn raises his hands to mess his hair up and growl. “Who would you have me date anyway? Because everyone in this nasty wasteland is a post apocalyptic monster.” 

“I — well. There’s princesses that are nice. And if you want a — another humanoid male I could make you a partner,” she shrugs. He becomes very still.

“I forgot who I was talking to. I thought you got more reasonable but I guess you just didn’t have many openings to micromanage me.” He stalks off toward the hall. 

“I warned you before, with Phoebe. You know how that turned out,” she mutters. 

He slams the door behind himself and grabs Fern’s hand. 

Fern doesn’t speak when they get home. he just lingers at the door to the rope bridge as Finn babbles a nervous goodnight at him. 

“She’s wrong. I’m the— you’re not—“ he squeezes his eyes shut and makes a pathetic noise. “Night.” 

  


On their first hike of the route the next morning Finn trails behind him, silent. When he runs to catch up Fern turns and raises a brow. All he supplies is, “I don’t care if she gets mad,” and a one shoulder shrug.

Fern’s heart twinges. 

They walk slowly, the dawn air is cold and crisp, and the tall grass pets their knees, dampening their pants with dew. Finn is wearing the dorky cloak Fern had given him as a joke gift for their fifth monthaversary. He wasn’t really counting, but his double was the romantic type, and seemed to have a clock set in his mind for their relationship. The gray scratchy scarf around his neck with too many dropped stitches was a genuine effort, though. Knitting with one hand and a vine was complicated, and the end product was crude, but Finn accepted it with fervor and kissed his face with exaggerated ‘muah’ sounds. 

His mind echoes sounds of guilt. 

An hour passes without words when Finn finally breaks the quiet. 

“She’s wrong, because—” 

Fern stops walking mid-step. 

  
  


“I think it’s me. You’re not the —“ Finn makes a frustrated noise and drags his hands down his face. “I think you’re the real one.”

Fern looks to the sky with wide eyes and makes a fist so hard that he leaves deep, weeping indents in his palm. 

  
  


“After I fell asleep that night something – weird – happened. It’s like my mind was showing my life to me again, and I had to relive and redo some of it. Like it was being taught to me.” Fern’s hand unclenches and his head buzzes. “I’m gonna guess you don’t remember that, right?” 

Finn waits for an answer, and the longer it takes his Other to speak the longer he wants to sprint away as fast as possible. He thinks about the prospect of digging a hole right there and crawling into it. 

Fern feels like he’s waking up from a dream, like the past few months of becoming a new person are slipping away from him. He’d gotten comfortable being Fern. He didn’t know if he could even _be_ Finn anymore. He resigned to accepting that he was a just-made being that could turn into whoever he wanted. And he was getting used to liking the freedom from his old reputation and name and responsibilities. 

“Why bring this up? I was getting over it. I’m... okay with being this, finally.” Fern turns to face him and his eyes are clearly shining an alert yellow. “After almost a year, why now? I don’t want this again. I have my own life, I have my own friends, I have my own experiences away from being you. My name and my face finally don’t mean the same as yours. I’m not trapped in this deep, _dank_ hole where we stare at each other for forever in my head anymore.” His voice is reverberating with something vaguely inhuman. Like two people were speaking at once.

“I’m sorry, I thought maybe it would give you some kind of—“

“Anxiety. It’s going to give me a panic attack.” Fern holds his face in his palm, the light of his eyes is reflected back at him, like there’s a hundred butter cups under his chin. He turns back around and his profile trembles. Finn’s hands raise as he slowly creeps closer. 

“The guilt was eating me. I couldn’t not tell you, but that was probably selfish.” His palms land on his Other’s shoulders, contagious shakes start to crawl up his arms. “I think I knew, far back in my head, that you’d be angry at me for doing this.” He kneels while Fern sinks to the ground. “But you deserve to know.” His arms circle around his Other and hug tightly. “I’ve taken enough from you.” Finn presses a kiss to the nape of his neck. 

A minute passes where neither says anything, Finn just continues to hold on and massage the chest under his fingers. His breath puffs out white, breaking in two past Fern’s neck. 

“I’m not — mad. But I need to be alone. You’re like this brood parasite and I don’t want to think like that but I can’t help it right now. I’m telling you to go because I — care about you. And if you stay I don’t know what’ll happen.” 

“Okay.” Finn gets up, mind screaming at him to stay. “Okay,” he repeats, more to himself as he takes a long look at his Other. His eyes are plastered to the ground. The human gathers himself and trudges off slowly. He throws a scared face over his shoulder which Fern meets with his own. He fades into the tree line. 

Fern makes a frustrated yell and scrambles back onto his feet. He takes off with a racing mind. Screw the scouting. He pauses at a break in the trees. The far off ziggurat is tall and imposing, but he wants to speak with Lolly so bad. She was more welcoming than his own mother. In fact, Minerva didn’t feel like his mother to begin with. He didn’t give it his all to get to know her on the island, but he just felt no familial attachment to her, nor she him. 

If he approached the towering profile he was nervous that his mind would go haywire. His forced vacation could only be thought about in cliffnotes. It was all too hazy. What he was awake for wasn’t _horrible_ , in fact it had gotten almost routine. He and the estranged gum family had one, important circumstance in common. They just chose to deal with theirs differently. If Finn was like PB – needing to be the best among something in his image – maybe Fern would’ve reacted similarly. 

He steels himself and sinks through the thicket.

“I hate her.” He’s sitting on a stair of the castle looking out at the new developments, new residents. The progress astonishes him, it’s gotten so busy. 

“No, she’s just being unfair to you and you’re coping with it by telling yourself that. Come here, poor thing.” Lolly lets his head fall to her lap as he lays sideways, one of her hands picks at bits of himself that needed shearing and the other rubs a soothing circle into his shoulder. 

“I know. She’s just so frustrating.” He sniffs to hold his composure.

“She has a whole lot of smarts in that gum, but not a lot of sense. You’re a sweet boy, Fern. Don’t take it personally.” 

“I’m not a boy anymore.” He tries to joke but it comes out annoyed and flat. 

“Hooey, yes you are.” She chuckles. “You don’t want to be an adult, believe me.”

He can hear Gumbald’s footsteps coming closer from behind them. They were distinct and he had memorized them unintentionally. 

“Look who’s back.” He’s haughty and hardly tilts his chin down to address them. 

“Don’t be mean.” Lolly doesn’t even turn around to speak to her ‘husband.’ 

“Fern.” Gumbald sighs. He hikes his cuffs up and sits a few stairs lower than them, bringing their faces level. “Why are you here, son?” 

“Bubblegum,” Fern huffs.

“Very surprising.” Fern can practically hear the man’s eye roll. “You finally found out that she stopped your brother from finding you?” 

“He’s not my brother,” he grumbles. "How'd you know?" 

Gumbald squints at him and doesn't answer. “Are you staying for dinner?” 

Fern turns it over in his head and accepts. He didn’t want to go back to the treehouse, and this was a good opportunity for some recon — that was his excuse, at least. 

When he gets home that night Finn asks where he was, and he lies. 

Things are uneventful for a few days, but tense. They don’t really talk, and when one walks into a room the other is in someone always leaves without looking. 

They go to a small party deep in the forest, Fern drags him along because things have been weird, and they needed to see faces that weren’t their own. 

  
  


The fact that Fern was the one to be invited out of the two of them made Finn feel strange. When Fern talks to their friends Finn feels strange. When he laughs because of one of their friends he feels strange. When Fern plays his bow for their friends he feels strange. He feels like they’re being compared, like they’re looking between the Mertens boys and inspecting them. 

Finn knows it’s a problem only in his head, and shakes it off. 

Their first fight happens.

They’re about to finish their first week of work and Finn is frustrated and Fern is pinned against a tree. They’re in the shadow of the ziggurat and Finn peels himself away to step into the orange, setting sunlight and breathe the air Fern never separates their faces for. 

  
  


And he looks so beautiful. 

But he doesn’t feel beautiful. 

Finn is insecure, Finn needs reassurance, Finn needs to know that Fern doesn’t want anyone else. Every time.

And Fern snaps. 

"Mertens Club Meeting," he points at Finn's nose, "why are you like this? Serious talk." Things have stayed touchy between the two of them since their scuffle with PB, and he’s carrying around anger that couldn’t safely be let go of. 

“It just — what are we doing? What do _you_ think we’re doing?” His double’s arms lift meekly to frame himself. 

Fern’s face blanks. “What do you mean?” 

“Is this just sex?” He's so serious that it would knock the air out of Fern if his lungs worked. 

“Are you kidding?” 

“No! Because you never make this _seem_ like anything else.” 

Fern is speechless. He steps up but stays behind the contrasted border between them, he puts his hand on Finn’s chest, bathing it in rays, and mumbles, “you laughed at me.”

Because the first time it was acknowledged Fern had his palm clasped over that same spot, where he thought Finn’s heart was (but wasn’t because he always dinks it up, but wasn’t because he forgot what it was like to have one constantly beat life through him) and said what he felt. And he was laughed at. So he didn’t bother again. He held himself with an air of careful calmness, held himself together, but it felt like a kick in the teeth. And his teeth are still regular old teeth! So that would hurt, a lot. And it did hurt a lot. So he was guarded with his emotions, he let Finn hear whatever he wanted to about their bodies touching, let him have validation to tear him away from some weird half full feeling he always got before they had sex, let him take the reigns. Because he had the reigns the whole time. _Fern_ was the freak, watching him for two years with warped fascination. _Fern_ was the conscious being trapped in an object that fell in love with It’s user. Why should _Finn_ be upset? On what grounds? What gave him the nerve to be hurt? Insecure? Fern _ravished_ him, with a capital R, he recited poetry with his body. He tried to lessen the flow of verbal, and increase physical words that poured through every crossroads their bodies made. How dare he.

A small hissing noise starts to drill into his brain. His vision blurs, from tears that threaten to spill over, or from anger he’s not sure. Maybe both. 

“You have the audacity – to take my life and everything I give you and our promise and all the times I’ve protected you,” his voice is doubled up and his hand trembles, it turns into a fist without his permission, “and still have to ask me?” The sound is ear splitting now, he feels like he’s being stabbed. Fern falls to his knees as he covers his left ear with his hand and his right with a root. “I fell into some kind of fucked up love with you when I wasn’t even a person, when you took the choice to be a person away from me. 

“When I was part of your blood I painted you into the landscape, I tried showing you. You threw me away until I was convenient, and when I got things wrong you hurt me and I loved you anyway. So much I made another you whole again to keep the promise, but it wasn’t the same as the He that I was with you — I was made for you.” The words are foreign but familiar. “And when I we I try - I try, try,” he chokes unnaturally like a skipping CD, “to tell you my feelings, mention a tiny bit of them,” the sound becomes higher and louder and shakes his body, “you laugh.” 

Everything around him can sense the panic in the air, the oppressive VOC he’s probably releasing in truckloads. Finn watches, confused as plants and grass and leaves turn to point away from them. He unwraps his the scarf from his neck and slips the cloak off. 

A hand clasps over Fern’s shoulder and he’s blanketed in the red cape.

"Fern? Are you okay?"

And then the sound stops. And then the world goes still. And then They click. They finally click into one and now his anger is Its anger and vice versa. 

Before he can try to calm himself (he wouldn’t anyway) he’s already turned and lunging, vines shooting up to hold Finn down. And now he can’t blame his fistfull of Finn’s hair on the creature that cocooned him in a heavy promise of the potential to be a person again. It’s Them, together, doing this. But They’re no longer Them, he’s just him.

  
  


  
  


Finn’s face is bathed in his eyelight. It’s familiar, his dream flashes back into his mind and it makes him sob. Finn’s hand wraps around his wrist as it lowers over his neck.

Finn doesn’t know if he’s crying or if those are his Other’s tears flowing down his face. They mix with the blood from his accidental cut – surprised by Fern’s aggression he’d bitten his lip **hard**. His bloodsweattears stain his shirt and his hair and the grass. 

“You take and take — you took my _life_ , and you’re asking me if it’s just _sex_?” 

“I didn’t know.” (Any of it. That either swords were alive and feeling and thinking.)

“I know you didn’t.” Finn keeps his hand around Fern’s wrist when fingers finally curl around his throat. “But you did it, and I’m still here, and I touched you and you’re still asking me. I’ve given you parts of me for eternity and you **signed off on it**.”

  


And now Finn is actually crying and reaching up to pet Fern’s face. 

“From now on — I’ll try — I’m really stupid, and selfish, but I’ll do it different — I’ll be better.” Fern’s hand is getting tighter, turning Finn a deep red. 

“You always say you’re selfish but you never learn.”

“Fern.” His voice cracks.

He grips harder. 

Finn rasps out, “no take backs.” 

Fern's body rattles. He collapses into the crook of Finn’s neck as he shouts and cries syllables out into the forest floor. He could never, anyway. Cosmically, the deal would stop him before going too far. 

Finn steals back deep breaths and pets long strokes over Fern’s head and shoulders and back. His Other quivers and whimpers and breaks over his chest. 

Fern screams an unholy sound and gets very quiet.

"We should've talked about this a long time ago, I'm so sorry."

Fern doesn't say anything back. He wipes his eyes on Finn’s shoulder and fights to stand up. 

“You can stop hiding.” His voice is strained. 

A tree rustles and a branch snaps, Finn is scared until Huntress Wizard touches down in front of them. 

“The bell.” She holds it up, it’s glowing gold. “You’re still doing this?”

  
  


“You’re probably safe to get rid of it now.” Fern is trying to talk through his sniffles and HW is smiling softly at him.

“I think I’ll keep it, at least until your melon stops spinning. Good job integrating though, you nut. About time.” She claps him on the back and ruffles his hair. “Just needed a good old homicidal breakdown.” She turns to Finn and her leaves make a pleasant rustling noise. “I’m gonna take him off your mitts for a teeny bit.” 

He nods dumbly.

“I’m fine, ‘Tess.” Fern is barely audible. 

They’re the same height and they’re made of the same stuff and their eyes are the same and they obviously have something very private between the two of them, and Finn starts to feel insecure again before he mentally pinches himself and relives the last 10 minutes. Before he knows it they’re gone, zapped away in a crack of her purple magic, leaving him still sprawled out on the ground. 

Fern tries to tell Huntress Wizard that he shouldn’t be there, standing in her living room with his hand on his face.

“No, you should stay until you’ve calmed down.”

So he plants himself over a bed of nutrient rich soil that she says is good for hangovers. 

“You really freaked out the fam back there.” 

He groans and feels even more guilty. The fire cherry woman, of course, would have felt his plant specific panic response. He lets her have her way and naps on the floor until she’s satisfied that he won’t wig out and strangle Finn during waking hours now, too. 

Finn is laying in bed playing games late into the night, waiting for any news when he thinks he hears movement. He pauses BMO and listens. His stomach churns when a clacking noise floats up their trunk-ladder. 

He climbs out of bed as quietly as possible and sneaks down to the living room, it’s empty. He swallows the lump in his throat and keeps climbing. The kitchen is empty, too, but the door to the old jail is ajar and creaking with the wind. 

Oh. A new sort of fear grips him.

He hops down and balances his way across the rope bridge. 

Huntress Wizard tip toes out of Fern's bedroom.

They stare at each other. 

“He’s out of it, but he’ll be alright,” she whispers. “I came through the front because the chimney felt inappropriate, sorry if I disturbed you.” 

“D’you usually come in that way?” Finn side steps and squeezes between her and the door, but she stops him with an arm. 

“Yes, I check up sometimes. Listen, he’s all gunked up in his head, you should leave him alone for a little bit.” The hand on the door moves to his shoulder. “It’s safer.”

“Why? Is he still mad?” Finn peeks around her but Fern's face is hidden, he's swaddled himself in something that looks like a grass womb. 

“His selves got mashed together, so he needs to get used to being like this. It’s overload.” 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Finn turns his back to the door, facing her. 

“No, just wait. Water him, maybe, if he does this for longer than a day.” Her other hand comes to land on the opposite shoulder. “So, Finn.”

“Yeah?” 

“Since your schedule is free, do you wanna go... somewhere?” Her face is suddenly very close and he ducks and weaves out of her arms. 

“Haha uh, free, I’m — um.” He clears his throat. “We’re — he's my — I'm not - free.“ He toes the dirt. 

Her catlike pupils get very thin as she stares in the air between the boys.

“So I’m just gonna,” he picks up their tattered and stained 1000 year old copy of The Stand to wave in the air. 

“Oh.” She shifts her weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. “Well – okay. That’s — okay. If you need anything — you know where I am.” She catapults herself off the rope bridge, sending it bouncing and waving. 

“Holy shit. Oh holy shit, man. That was all her, alright?” Finn tries to joke but Fern is still and silent. He sits and undoes the braid, brushing matte black hair out with his fingers. “I don’t care if this isn’t safe,” he kisses Fern’s head and leans against the mattress to read, “but try not to attack me?” 

  
  


He gets through only a few pages since there’s something burning his throat that needs to get out or he’ll burst. 

“I love you, too.” 

Fern’s face whips to the left. His hair turns a whole new color. Finn notices that his eyes have changed subtly and thinks they’re just as pretty. 

“I didn’t get to say it back.” He shuts their book and takes Fern’s hand in his own. “I love you.” He says it for himself, his Other’s hair blooms brightly. 

Fern doesn’t speak for a few days. He needs the time to adjust his perception of the world around him, the thing that his mind had gotten mixed up with had a lot of anger. His insides lurch when Finn takes one of the bells from his wrist to slip onto his own. Being touched makes his stomach bubble up in fury. 

  
  


To the outside world he seemed almost catatonic. Finn decides to continue taking care of him like he had been, because Fern didn’t look like he was going to do it himself. _He probably just needs time._ So he gives his Other time. He gives him two days where he doesn’t bring up Fern’s silence, and when he tries to on the third all he’s given is a blank stare. 

So he calls LSP over. 

“The walls in his head got taken down, basically, right?”

“And he’s not talking, or moving, or _anything_ , you know more about this than I do. HW said he’s just tuning his settings or something.” 

“Well, why didn’t you get her help then?”

“That’s — she – it’s not important, can you just try? Please?” 

They stand outside of his bedroom and try to talk discreetly, but Fern can hear them anyway. They crack the door to peer at him and whisper to each other.

“Hey Fern. Sounds like you’ve had a couple of rough days, huh?” She floats to him slowly. 

He stares. 

They sit at the end of his bed and talk at him, ask yes or no questions, try to be inclusive. 

“And that’s when I said...”

His brain calls her annoying.

“...wasn’t it, Fern?” 

He shakes his head. 

“No?” LSP asks. 

He blinks back to reality and stares at them, confused. 

“I don’t think he’s listening.” Finn places a hand on her arm. “Do you wanna be alone?”

Fern keeps staring.

“Sorry LSP, I guess he still isn’t... You want lunch?” 

She nods fervently and Finn leads her to the kitchen. 

When Finn comes in the next day to spray down his Other’s feet a vine wraps around his wrist. 

“Fern?” He straightens and places his metal hand over it. “Do you need something?” 

He tugs and his double allows it, coming closer and kneeling, he tugs again and Finn crawls in bed next to him. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“What?” He pulls his face far away, surprised at the voice that swims in his head and at the words it carries. 

“It was so hard for me to think about how I feel, because it’s not just from who I am but what I am, and it’s complicated and all jumbled together, and Bonnie’s right — it did start unhealthy. So I tried to start over, but it didn’t really work. And if I ever had to tell you how I felt then that meant remembering where it came from. Both parts of me had this unhealthy fixation on you and even if it got real when I finally existed it—“ Fern stops himself from rambling. “I’m trying to say that my attachment to you probably isn’t all organic.” He slides his hand down his face. “And I’m sorry for hurting you.” 

“I’m okay.” 

“But _it’s_ not. That wasn’t okay.” He speaks through his fingers, palm cupped over his mouth. 

“No, it wasn't, but I don’t think that’s gonna happen again.” Finn brushes a piece of hair away from Fern’s face. 

“Are you angry at me?”

“What for?” Finn interlocks their fingers and squeezes. 

“For going crazy anyway, after you defended me to PB.”

“I never said that you wouldn’t... I don’t know, snap? Just that it wasn’t bad if the curse was part of this.” Finn tilts forward and their lips press together, soft and quick. Their eyes open slowly, neither pulls away. 

“Oh.” Fern’s eyes blink between their held gaze and Finn’s mouth. “That’s... good.” He inches forward and they kiss carefully. 

And it’s sweet, and short, and warm. 

Finn pushes his face into Fern’s neck. 

“I love you.” It reverberates over his skin.

"I love you, too."

They cling to each other. 

A few days later and the end of the month comes and goes, and Jermaine is in their living room looking at them like they’re zoo animals walking on hind legs. 

Fern accidentally hears that he was out for almost a month. 

“And he’s not you.” 

“Yeah. That’s the jist.” 

“So he was you, and he’s still my brother, but he’s not you.” 

“Uhuh.” 

Jermaine blinks and sighs. 

They have to find Jake. A Jake who’s been gone for five weeks. They have to go to Mars. Fern apologizes with his eyes when Finn takes off running to Normal Man’s basement, leaving Jermaine looking tired, so tired. The basic rundown is puzzles, and Jake being stuck on some far off planet, requiring them to solve said puzzles. Fern is with Jermaine on this - they make no sense and have nothing to do with him. He stretched his arm to catch an ice thing that loomed over them and when it slipped away his vision tunneled as Finn chased after it, falling through the floor, but he didn’t analyze it too much. He knew King Man was ‘Normal Man’ now, but he was obviously still off his rocker, so he ignores anything it might mean. 

They eventually get Jake back, and he makes a big deal about not recognizing Finn with his new haircut. Fern’s just glad they have some adult supervision, the treehouse has gotten into an interesting state - fixed up but messy as all get out. 

He and Jermaine end up hitting it off pretty well. His other-brother says he feels better now that there's a level head around The Playhouse. He takes the compliment and doesn't chastise himself for past mistakes.

Life continues, things start to feel almost normal. They set aside time for one another, like regular couples. They decided to give their automatically co-dependent relationship a real shot at working out, so they make _boundaries_ and _slow down_. They see their friends and Finn isn’t possessive or jealous, or have any existential comparative freak outs in his head. And if he does start to feel iffy they talk about it. They play music together as a little side hobby they can share, and a small crowd always forms around them at The Candy Tavern. Finn insists on coming to work with him one day, and learns the meaning of on call when Fern wakes him at 6 AM on a weekend. He accompanies Fern to one of his doctor appointments, and learns about how he works. They do dungeon crawls and work together until their fighting styles compliment the other’s. They have alone time, but on occasion they'll sit shoulder-to-shoulder on the tree top and Fern will knit and Finn will paint, and they'll try not to distract the other, but will anyway and end up rolling around together in the roof. 

Finn reports back to Bonnie a month after the fight and she doesn’t mention it at all. Marceline isn’t stupid though, and PB passively tosses into conversation that she wants them to see a movie together. They go on a weekend and when the vampire calls it a double date Bubblegum turns an even darker shade of pink. They have their not-double-dates every Sunday. The princess is begrudging every time, but says it’s good to have some semblance of normalcy. She and Fern start to get along.

When Finn finally hears the truth about his Other seeing the gum family he insists on coming with. They have dinner in Gumbaldia every Friday, and Lolly fusses over both of them. When Finn says that she’s like mom Fern smiles, and when she tells him to call her ‘aunt’ Lolly Fern smiles harder.

They have a month of routine normalcy. 

And one day they wake up, and they’re no longer kids. War is here, and their innocence is gone. 

Bubblegum calls them with a stern, carefully composed voice hours until sunrise. 

They take off through the forest. Before splitting up Finn pushes Fern into a tree and doesn’t stop to feel insecure, they move their mouths together with aggression. He pulls back and plants a kiss to his Other’s cheek, and watches fondly as he runs off with a wink toward Gumbaldia. Finn turns to the Candy Kingdom with a wide smile, despite what lies ahead.

  
  


Thank you for reading!

* "Aai, ich muss draa schnittling, de iwwelguckich Faare" means, My goodness, I'm compelled to do some shearing/plant cutting, you evil-looking fern. 


End file.
